


Red String

by LadyHallen



Series: Mafia and Magic [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Adult Reborn - Freeform, F/M, Female Harry, Fluff, Mystery, Romance, genderbender
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:38:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 77
Words: 94,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHallen/pseuds/LadyHallen
Summary: Some people call it fate, some people call it destiny. But the Red String will always tie two people and when they meet, it will change their lives. Fem!Harry/AdultReborn





	1. Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> This is self-indulgent. Post-HP. Post Arcobaleno Arc.

_Some call it destiny, some call it fate.  
But for better or worse, two people are tied by a Red String and it always changes their lives._

_-The Red-String-_

* * *

They meet, the first time around in a coffee shop in Venice.

Hyacinth is, for once, behaving and not looking for any new curiosities that would get her into trouble. She drinks her tea, eats her cookies and burrows deep in her novel like a proper bookworm.

Reborn, in all his un-babyfied glory, enters the shop and orders his regular, checks it for poison and finds out that all seats are occupied, save for the vacant one in Hyacinth's table.

Normally, Reborn would have just emitted his awesome hitman aura that usually cleared a room faster than a gunshot, but he is in a good mood.

So he makes his way to Hyacinth's table, asks if they could share and Hyacinth spent a couple of beats blinking because his sideburns really defied logic. After she gets over that, she nodded.

Nothing happens. But then again, it is a first meeting.

She remembers his ridiculous hair and his voice.

He remembers her brilliant eyes and how she consumed tea by the barrel.

* * *

The second time they meet, it is for an antique auction in Paris.

Hermione had bullied her to go out and stop moping. Just to be contrary, Hyacinth used her gold to splurge, buy herself a dress and throw a dart to the map.

Reborn is there to reclaim a few pieces of art from the time of Vongola Primo.

It just so happened that the auction featured some pieces with the Peverell crest.

Hyacinth wasn't alone in the bidding for the ancient pocket watch of Marcus Peverell, son of the son of Ignotus Peverell. Reborn as well, was not alone in bidding for the painting of Lady Elena and Daemon Spade.

Both won, obviously. Reborn through sheer force of personality and Hyacinth because of her immeasurable wealth. Also, both of them gained a lot of annoyed parties.

In the hallway afterwards, Hyacinth is cornered by three wizards who didn't recognize who she was. Reborn, passing by the people who parted from him like the Red Sea, caught her eye. It was as though time slowed for both of them - and there was always a reason why the Vongola Decimo, Sawada Tsunayoshi, would vow to the gods that his tutor could read minds.

Well… Reborn was never one to leave a woman in distress.

.

.

"Thank you," she sighs. "That was getting stuffy."

Reborn nods, gives her a kiss to her fingertips and makes her blush to the roots of her hair. "That was nothing. Just don't get yourself in another of these messes."

Hyacinth flashes him a sheepish look. "Ah, I'll try. But I'm not betting in my luck," she says.

She remembers him, of course. Reborn is rather unforgettable.

He remembers her eyes two days later.

Both of them wonder if it is a coincidence.

* * *

They meet a third time in London.

Hyacinth is doing groceries when she passed by Reborn coming out from an alley, throwing away a bloodstained rag.

He smells, faintly, of gunpowder and blood.

Their eyes meet and a world of knowledge passes through that moment.

She knows that he has done.

He knows what she inferred.

Hyacinth drops her groceries with a squeak and runs.

Reborn tucks his gun and gives chase.

It was a confusing moment but Hyacinth has spent the better part of a _year_ running. No matter if he is the World's Greatest Hitman, he cannot catch a person used to running for her life. Hyacinth had also the advantage of knowing the territory.

London was her playground.

He doesn't catch her, and ruminates over that for a month.

She hides, and contemplates becoming a hermit for life.

* * *

The fourth time they meet is when they finally talk and it is in Rome.

Hyacinth wanted to see the Coliseum before making a smaller replica of it for her godson's birthday.

Reborn, because of another job, though this one involves retrieval rather than death.

She was a tourist and he was a hitman.

Their eyes don't meet this time, but he smells her perfume, the exact same perfume he had hunted for three blocks, and instinctively reaches a hand to grab. Hyacinth flinches but is caught anyway, and they both meet face to face after a year.

"Ahm," she squeaks. "Hello."

Reborn recognizes her body's reaction. She is curious, wary and a bit attracted. But there was no fear.

How strange.

"My name is Reborn," he says smoothly.

Her eyes widen. "Hyacinth. My name is Hyacinth," she whispers.

She is curious.

He is mystified.

* * *

They meet again, but those meetings never end anymore.

 


	2. Conversations

"What were you doing in Venice?" he asks.

Hyacinth smiles. "Vacation," she says. "Generally, on vacation."

Something in the way she says it makes him ask, "And specifically?"

"Reading a book," is the impish answer.

_(Minx, he laughs.)_

.

.

"Why yellow?" she asks, eying the yellow band around his fedora.

Reborn raises a brow. "Doesn't it suit me?" he asks.

Hyacinth has a dozen answers to that, most of them cheeky and impertinent. But that would be rude, so she says, "Most men I know don't really wear yellow."

He just smirks. "Those men aren't me."

_(True, she thinks.)_

.

* * *

.

The topics they touch aren't serious, but mostly, they are still testing their boundaries. Association with Reborn, of course, would test those boundaries to the limits.

Like one such conversation:

.

"I've seen you mostly in different countries," Reborn remarks. "But where is the first time you've been drunk?"

Hyacinth blushes. "U-uhm," she stutters for the first time in his presence. "I haven't tried getting drunk yet. I've always been too busy to get drunk."

His astonishment is valid. She's twenty and still hadn't tried getting drunk.

"Have you even tried having sex yet?" he demands, astonishment removing his restraint.

Hyacinth's blush would soon lead to steaming, it was that red. It also answered his question without words.

" _Dios,_ " he mutters.

.

But really, their topics are still being tested, finding out what to ask and what _not_ to ask each other.

For example:

.

"Why do you like coffee?" she demands in one of their quieter moments.

It's the wrong question to ask.

Reborn doesn't wax poetic about coffee, but it's a close thing. It takes him a full fifteen minutes to stop talking and when he does, Hyacinth is wide-eyed.

"I just _asked_ ," she mutters. "You didn't have to whack my head about it."

.

* * *

On Reborn's prodding, Hyacinth dye's her hair blonde.

The effect is ethereal and Hyacinth is privileged to witness a rare moment that no one would ever see.

Reborn is speechless…but, sadly, it only lasts for a moment.

"Do you have a sundress?" he asks. "You'll look like a wood nymph."

Hyacinth snorts. "I'll look ridiculous."

_(She ends up wearing a sundress anyway and the blonde hair stays for two months.)_

.

* * *

.

The topic of Reborn's sideburns eventually crop up.

"Have they always been that way?" she asks.

He cocks an eyebrow in a _What do you think?_ gesture.

In answer, Hyacinth reaches over and grabs one, pulling gently to make it unwind. It bounces back once she lets go, her fingers clear of any possible residue of hair gel or hair wax.

"Hair like that isn't normal," she mutters.

Reborn is rubbing the roots of his sideburns in annoyance. He had not expected her to do that. "Don't do that," he orders.

Hyacinth just grins up at him.

_(Imp, he mutters.)_

.

* * *

.

Ultimately, the topic of job-occupations come up.

Hyacinth goes first because hers is not so controversial.

_(Both of them know that. Evade, avoid and put_ _**that** _ _last.)_

"What I do for a living?" she mutters halfheartedly. "Well, I don't really need to work because my parents left me quite a lot of money. I do invest in a lot of new business and reap the profits. People usually come to me for loans."

It was the edited version of half the wizarding world coming to her for funds, and then paying back twice because nobody wanted to cheat on her, and if they did, they'd be hunted down by her rabid fans.

Reborn just blinks, because he knows that she is rich, but to hear it confirmed is another thing.

Not that it matters to him. If he'd ever retire from being an assassin, he could live the rest of his life splurging and still have enough to spend for several other decades.

And then her green eyes sharpen and look at him and he knows it's his turn.

"I'm a hitman. You know that already," he says.

There is no uncertainty in his voice. Arrogance, and confidence oozes in him. That's what makes him dangerous.

_(He tells himself that what she thinks doesn't matter.)_

Hyacinth doesn't shriek or run away. If she were younger, she would have said that murder is evil.

But she had spent a year hunted, and another half year recovering from the trauma of watching friends and loved ones die. She understands vengeance and murder, but there are lines she would never cross.

Hyacinth remembers Bellatrix Lestrange who enjoyed causing death. She remembers Neville's tears and his hushed agony.

So she looks at him, eyes carefully blank. "Do you enjoy it?" she asks.

"It's a job," he says indifferently. "I am just the best at it, the World's Greatest Hitman. I enjoy the challenge."

That tells Hyacinth more about Reborn's character than anything ever would and she relaxes.

.

* * *

.

After that conversation, the boundaries are stretched even further and the day that Reborn crashes in one of Hyacinth's many vacations for just some sleep is the day it is dropped completely.

.

_But that is an event to tell in another chapter._

.


	3. Communications

Hyacinth's problem, Reborn thinks, was that she was so hard to contact.

His disgruntlement is understandable. He only ever got to see the elusive woman when her strange luck acts up.

Reborn has had to redefine the word _coincidence_ in association with Hyacinth.

So he buys a phone and programs his number in, promising to himself to give it to her the next chance he gets.

That doesn't come for another three months. In the meantime, a brown-feathered owl finds him first.

.

* * *

.

Technology has always had a strange way of reacting in the presence of magical wards.

It stood to reason that something would have to change if she is ever to keep in contract with Reborn.

So she stares at the paperwork for her new apartment and wonders if she's out of her mind, trading the Black Ancestral House for one teensy tiny apartment.

Hermione yells it for her anyway.

"You're out of your mind!" she says. "Truly!"

Artemis hops on her foot, fluffing one wing in impatience, sharp eyes watching her fingers deftly roll the letter meant for Reborn.

Moving would take time after all. No need to worry him unnecessarily.

"Hermione," Hyacinth sighs. "Don't you like it? I'm reconnecting with the 'roots of the wizarding world'."

The brunet scowls, but its half hearted and Hyacinth already knows that Hermione would continue the argument simply because she could. Hyacinth's already won it anyway.

"And what if a dark wizard finds you?" she demands. "And all those other people who go to you for money?"

Hyacinth has an answer for that too. She's actually spent an entire night arguing with the Hermione in her own head.

"I'm sure I can manage the dark wizards," she answers. "And I am hiring someone to manage my businesses for me. That's why this will take months."

_(Hermione never stops grumbling but Hyacinth goes on with it anyway.)_

.

* * *

.

The owl takes Reborn by surprise and he almost shoots it. It merely looks at him irritably and rolls its eyes, extending one leg where a letter is tied – which he only notices belatedly.

The content of the letter is only a short paragraph. It manages to convey the writers mischievous spirit and a whole lot of other unwritten words.

Reborn feels his eyebrows going up in challenge.

Letter-writing may be the only are wherein Hyacinth trumps him, and he wants to remedy that.

He is never one to ignore his own deficiencies after all. He is never content to remain ignorant when an avenue of learning opens up.

"Wait here," he commands the waiting Artemis.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is pleasantly surprised that Reborn answers and is even happier when the correspondence via owl continues.

They are mostly short sentences, usually phrases that are loaded with meaning and makes Hyacinth laugh and scowl equally.

It confuses her, after the third returning letter. Isn't his job the sort that did not need attention? She figures that an owl regularly swooping at you with messages is eye-catching.

She gives a bewildered look at Artemis but the owl has no answer.

.

" _Hiiiiee! Reborn, that's an owl!"_

" _And what of it, Baka-Tsuna?"_

" _Whaa-! Don't shoot!"_

.

Meanwhile, she has to deal with her two house-elves arguing about who gets to go with her in the tiny apartment.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth hires a muggle-born Beauxbatons student named Rachel. Brilliant at finances, reports and fashion. She was also polite and very, _very_ professional.

"You'll mail me reports every week?" Hyacinth demands. "And give me prospective proposals? Truly, Rachel – "

The beautiful woman just rolls her eyes. "Yes, madam," she says.

Rachel understands that Hyacinth's main concern are for her clients and not that Rachel would swindle her, so she doesn't begrudge Hyacinth the worry.

Hyacinth is eventually soothed and she transfers to her new apartment.

Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, Reborn is there to greet her.

.

* * *

.

Reborn scrutinizes her things as she unpacks them.

A lot of them are knickknacks, books and small crates, which she refuses to allow him a single glimpse. It doesn't surprise him that there's absolutely no gadgets.

No matter how spontaneous Hyacinth was, she was sometimes bewildered by simple references to movies or famous people.

Then again, she seemed to have grown up in a very… _selected_ …environment.

.

* * *

.

The phone is received without much fuss.

Hyacinth merely raises an eyebrow.

"I bought this before your owl came," Reborn says.

He doesn't sound defensive, but Hyacinth has learned not to discount the smallest twitches of his shoulders.

Reborn's hands are always still and controlled, his face impassive and his eyes hard to scrutinize due to how fathomless its depths seemed. To know Reborn's feelings, one had to look at his shoulders.

He is hesitant and feeling awkward.

So she accepts it with a smile.

.

* * *

.

It's not easy and there are times when Hyacinth gets the urge to pack and move, or to even hurl her phone to the wall.

But as difficult as Reborn is, he somehow manages to make it… _worthwhile_.

.

_(Especially when he crashes her apartment at six in the morning, bearing **coffee.** )_

.


	4. Familiarity

It is scent that is easiest for both of them.

Reborn had hunted Hyacinth through her perfume of lavender and vanilla. Hyacinth is woken in the morning when Reborn drops by with the scent of coffee and gunpowder.

It is significant enough that Hyacinth often wakes up at the smell of coffee, if only to ensure that Reborn would not nose through her things.

.

* * *

.

There is absolutely no pattern to Reborn's schedule.

Perhaps he just drinks an espresso in the morning, or if he gets angry enough to need to unwind.

But he did not visit Hyacinth at a scheduled pace.

Instead, Hyacinth learns to anticipate him when he comes with a certain expression on his face and she simply readies him a chair and a book, asking no questions.

Little by little, he relaxes and he starts to talk. Hyacinth just smiles and puts down her book, trying to drink tea and failing because he had replaced it with coffee when she wasn't looking.

This is the pattern to Reborn's visit.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth doesn't surprise Reborn with any change in her daily life.

It is simple enough:

She wakes up, eats breakfast that Mippy prepared, reads the reports that Rachel mailed from yesterday, sorts through that and then sends her orders for which loan to approve and which ones to let loose.

After that, she picks one of the many branches of magic that she had neglected in fighting for her life yearly in Hogwarts. It is then a steady stream of studying until the afternoon, where she has enrolled in a muggle university to study languages and anything else that has caught her fancy.

Hyacinth then does groceries that Mippy listed down.

It is a simple, easy schedule. It does not welcome any changes.

But Reborn butts himself in, sliding so smoothly that suddenly, there is an extra hour or two in every day (of no expected order) that simply is allotted for Reborn.

.

* * *

.

It takes another few months of constantly barging in her apartment for him to be comfortable in staying there for more than an hour.

That is when he tastes her cookies and promptly orders her to cook more.

That is also when he realizes that she doesn't respond well to orders.

He leaves her house a bit surprised that the spontaneous and easy-going woman had thrown a book at him.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth had seen Reborn in various emotional states.

He didn't express himself freely, but some cues from him would tell her if it would be the time to make fun of him, or the time to just keep quiet.

But it is the first time she had ever seen him pissed off, and it is _frightening_. Hyacinth would not have known what to do, but she had passed by Draco Malfoy in a temper as well, and the similarity is astonishing.

So she keeps her distance, because she knows that he has the urge to break something. Then she hands him her china plates, telling him to, 'throw them before you do something you'll regret.'

Astonishingly, he listens and throws, the breaking of plates a melodic and rhythmic sound for the next hour.

Hyacinth is contemplating opening her spare box of plates when the sound stops and she is enveloped in a warm hug and the scent of coffee and gunpowder wraps around her.

"Thank you," he whispers and something warm settles in the pit of her chest.

.

* * *

.

Reborn becomes an even more frequent visitor afterwards and Hyacinth just smiles, though she is becoming rather confused. Didn't he have a job?

He stays often and finally sees her pull an all-nighter in order to survive one of the more ridiculously difficult tests that her university subjects her to.

He goggles at how short her temper became and laughs at her often because a sleep-deprived Hyacinth resulted in a snarky and irritable Hyacinth.

After the test, he is there to catch her as she stumbles through her door, exhaustion making her feet feel like lead. He puts her to bed and covers her with a blanket.

On the way out, he passes by the table where she called her study (which he thought is ridiculous, since her apartment is so small that the dining table is literally three steps from it.), he sees what she uses as paper and blinks.

There, scattered across the table and covered in notes, is parchment paper.

He blinks again and he spies an inkwell and a quill at the top of the desk.

Reborn wonders how he missed that when he had faithfully delivered her tea and coffee while she was studying.

.

* * *

.

Reborn becomes familiar, enough so that Hyacinth's magic responded and often tells her when it senses him coming.

It bewilders Reborn when she starts to anticipate him, but she just shrugs and pushes him a cup of really _divine_ espresso. He forgets his question in the wake of the really beautiful cup of coffee.

.

_(Hyacinth gives a discreet thumbs up to where Mippy is hiding and the house-elf dances a little.)_

.


	5. Complacency

It is the first time that Reborn comes to Hyacinth's apartment and doesn't find peace or calm.

Mainly, it is because of the thick stench of copper and salt in the air, of blood shed freely and recently

There might be no stain on the floor or walls, but it was prominent enough to drown out the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies that the air in the apartment always smells like.

He traces the scent to the bathroom and finds Hyacinth there, pale and nearly unconscious, trying to bandage a large gash in her stomach by herself, looking up at him with such vulnerability that it was hard not to flinch.

Then he gives the injury a closer look and has to breath through his nose in an effort to stave off shooting something.

Reborn nearly sees red, because it was obviously a knife wound.

_(My fault? he asks himself.)_

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth had gotten a bit careless.

She had not watched or looked around at all when she had apparated to Diagon Alley to meet up with Rachel for possibility of opening a proper Loaning office. The easy life in the apartment had made her complacent. And she had paid for it with a wound to the stomach when she refused to go down without a fight.

Luckily, the wizard that had ambushed her did not know much about fighting with fists and feet.

It just galls her that she had Dudley to thank for that.

Now, she just has to convince the hitman staring at her in the bathroom in horror not to go on a rampage.

_(She curses her luck that today had to be one of those Reborn days.)_

.

* * *

.

Something snaps and Reborn _moves_ , doing things a smidge bit faster, tying it around her with precision that would normally have creeped her out, but she was far too tired to care.

She sags against him in relief and doesn't even remember that she is half-naked, glorying in the comfort of his touch and the knowledge that he would never hurt her.

Reborn just tries to control his temper and holds the exhausted woman to him. He wonders if he knows the person who had done this to her and makes a mental note to himself to review all his acquaintances.

It wouldn't do for those beneath him to get uppity just because he was taking a break from assassinations to spend time with a civilian.

.

* * *

.

"My fault," she whispers. "Don't do anything drastic. I was careless."

His eyes narrow. "You didn't put a knife in your stomach by yourself, woman."

The way he says it normally would have made her laugh, but it hurts too much to even try.

"No, I didn't. I was just too complacent to notice that arse come at me. It's a good thing my cousin took up boxing when we were little," she says, exhaustion making her tongue loosen.

Hyacinth doesn't notice the way his gaze sharpens. If she could read minds, she would have worried even more.

.

* * *

.

The first thing he does, once she can move enough without wincing, is teach her self-defense.

Hyacinth takes to the lessons easily – if not eagerly, enough. Most of what she knew was self taught and more successful in a fight due to desperation and fear.

Reborn makes teaches her efficiency, pressure points and just the right amount of strength to take down a full grown man in about two seconds. She listens to the lessons and applies it with startling effectiveness, being unnervingly prodigious in it.

.

_(Reborn wonders if it would be worth the hounding to tease Tsuna that a **civilian woman**_ _was a better student than he was.)_

_._

The first time she does so, with Reborn as her practice target, she forgets her propriety and jumps, giving him a hug out of sheer giddy joy.

He stills, hands frozen stiffly beside him, before they tentatively move up and embrace her in return.

.

* * *

.

It is not so awkward, because Hyacinth is the _most dense_ person on earth.

Instead, Reborn takes to bringing her small gifts and smiles a bit more when she tells him her funny stories that she sees in the university.

Hyacinth wrinkles her brow and wonders if she should bake extra for the person tailing Reborn for a couple of weeks.

_(In her mind, it stood to reason that any acquaintance of Reborn would appreciate her cookies.)_

.


	6. Acquaintances

It is the red that she sees first when he drops through her window.

An Asian man with long, tightly braided black hair and a fluid, cat-like grace. He is wearing a red uniform that looks _very_ comfortable. Hyacinth drools over that even as she palms the wand hidden in her sleeve.

"Hello," she greets with a smile. "Are you a friend of Reborn?"

Hyacinth has learned from Molly Weasley and Lucius Malfoy that manners and politeness was a very disarming weapon.

The man looks startled, before he gives her a deep bow that nearly disarms her in turn.

So he knew that trick too. Hyacinth likes him already.

"Yes," he says. "I was looking for him and trailed him to your home."

Hyacinth invites him to sit, even as she serves him cookies. She keeps the table between them though. Even if he says he is an acquaintance of Reborn, she will keep wary until the hitman arrives.

"Would you like tea or coffee?" she asks. "It'll take him a while to get back."

"Tea please," he says and he gets another point in her books. Here was somebody who actually appreciated a good tea.

Both of them savor the silence, and Hyacinth starts another batch of cookies. The man was eating them at a speedy, if polite way and she wouldn't want Reborn to run out. He was _such_ a man-child when it came to her cookies.

.

* * *

.

Reborn arrives and nearly stands stock still when he sees Fon calmly eating and drinking in Hyacinth's dining table.

The first impulse is to shoot and he has to curb that because this is Hyacinth's house.

"What are you doing here?" he demands instead.

Fon just shrugs. "You missed our annual meeting. It worried Yuni."

 _Of course_ she asked Fon. The martial artist was one of the few people who could tail Reborn without his notice.

Hyacinth slips in view, taking the bags of grocery from his hands with a smile of thanks.

"He just came through the window as you left," she says beaming. "And Reborn, why didn't you introduce him earlier? He's been watching you for a week."

Reborn resists the urge to palm his face. "Hyacinth, the first instinct that a woman should have in having a strange man in their house is to scream, not invite him to tea."

This time, the woman drops the bag on the kitchen counter, laughing too hard to stand up straight. "Oh! Oh, sweet Merlin! And the first instinct I should have had when I saw you in London was to run to the police," she gasps.

He feels his lips tugging up. "Point," he concedes. "But honestly, woman. Don't invite everybody you meet to tea."

She's still giggling and Fon is watching their interaction with sharp, curious eyes. "He _likes_ tea, unlike you, Heathen."

.

* * *

.

The next batch of cookies is served, and that's when the introductions finally happen.

"Fon, this is Hyacinth. Hyacinth, this is Fon," Reborn drawls out, preoccupied in attacking the cookies.

Hyacinth beams. "Hello. It's nice to finally get your name. What are you wearing by the way?" she says, all in one breath.

Fon looks startled at her energy. He darts a subtle, nervous glance to Reborn, only to find the hitman looking at their interaction with dark amusement.

"Uhm, yes. This is the uniform of my discipline," he answers after getting his wits together. "I received it after my master deemed me to have finished his teachings."

Her eyes brighten. "Ooh, so it's the ceremonial stuff," she mutters. "I really like the red though. It's such a bright color. How do you hide in broad daylight?" she asks innocently.

Fon's eyebrows twitch, because she had just called him flamboyant, in a roundabout way. "Ah," he manages. "Trade secret."

The answer was a complicated mix about flames, chi and aura's. Other people would have found it difficult, but Fon had been doing it since he could walk.

Reborn laughs. "He's rather secretive about that," he says to Hyacinth. "People who practice Martial Arts are rather… _quiet_ about their methods."

She nods sagely in agreement while Fon pales. That was a very thinly veiled threat. He nods as well, just so that Reborn would stop looking at him like that.

.

* * *

.

The reason crops up and Hyacinth turns to admonish Reborn.

"Honestly," she mutters. "Reborn, while I do enjoy having you around, it's not nice to neglect your friends."

Reborn nearly looks murderous while Fon hides a smile behind his teacup.

"They are not my friends," he growls.

Hyacinth flicks an eye to his shoulders and realizes that he is embarrassed and annoyed. But he is not angry, so she allows herself a small laugh.

"If they worry about you, then they are your friends," she says firmly. "Unless…it is something else?"

Fon fails to muffle a snicker at Reborn's horrified look.

.

* * *

.

Reborn leaves with Fon, along with a basket of cookies.

Hyacinth ignores him for a second to give Fon a look. "Take care that he doesn't eat everything," she says. "That's a lot of cookies, even for him."

Fon smiles and nods, finally having the measure of her. "I will. They are truly delicious, Hyacinth."

She smiles. "Thanks! Drop by sometime. I need somebody who appreciates tea."

Reborn interrupts their bonding time when he yanks Fon by the arm and leaps out of the window.

Hyacinth doesn't laugh at the sight, but it's a close thing.

.

* * *

.

As they steadily winds through the crowded streets, Fon gives Reborn a look of pure annoyance.

"There's no need to be jealous," he says mildly. "She was just having fun."

Reborn snorts. "That little minx was having too much fun."

Fon notices that he doesn't dispute the jealousy and stamps down a smile.

He notices anyway and changes the subject. "Is she rescheduling the meeting? It's a week early."

The martial artist just shrugs. "I do not know. Perhaps she saw that you would not go, preoccupied as you were with the civilian."

Reborn growls and Fon takes a discreet step to the side.

.


	7. Friends

Fon doesn't visit as often Hyacinth would like, but he did visit if he was in the vicinity.

She couldn't spare much thought to that anyway, seeing as Hermione finally finds her after a deliberately not telling the muggleborn witch her location.

"Hyacinth, you irresponsible thing!" she cries, embracing her tightly. Behind her, Ron looks apologetic.

"Sorry mate," he says. "I tried to stall her."

It was already impressive stalling since Ron had given her nearly four months. Hyacinth just grins at him.

"It's alright. I've been having fun."

Hermione straightens out, curiosity getting the better of her. "What have you been studying?" she asks and it doesn't sound nearly as annoyed as it should be.

Ron gives her a discreet thumbs-up.

.

* * *

.

As though Hermione's and Ron's visit signaled something, all her other friends suddenly started coming, always on Saturday's after she told them that she was busy studying on weekdays. Reborn was also more liable to visit on Sunday's - not that she told anyone that.

Absence truly did make the heart grow fonder; for she appreciated her friends even more, especially Neville and Hermione.

In turn, her friends found that they missed her too, just _not_ her mischief.

Their visits cycles to a month and that's when Hyacinth starts to get nervous.

Reborn usually only left her alone for a month. He was due for a visit. _Very soon_.

.

* * *

.

As her luck would have it, Reborn comes back _not_ on a Saturday.

He looks exhausted and on the verge of collapsing, but he still manages to pause by the doorway, sniffing the air and looking annoyed.

"Who was here?" he asks. To his sensitive nose, he smells different people and it annoys him that this irrepressibly _friendly_ creature, with very little caution or sense in her body, had invited potentially dangerous people in her home. _(Oh, the irony.)_

She hopes to delay him as she catches his stumbling form and settles him in the sofa, then dashes to the kitchen.

Hyacinth does not give him an espresso, because that would be bad for his health with the state he is in. Instead, she gives him tea, laced with a diluted sleeping draught.

It works like a charm, and he is out like a light. She arranges him on the sofa, covers him with a quilt and then removes his fedora. Hyacinth treats the hat reverently, knowing how much Reborn liked it.

She dodges his question, but she knows he won't forget it.

.

* * *

.

Fortunately, or unfortunately – depending on your point of view, Hyacinth's strange luck acts up and Reborn sleeps through Neville's visit.

That just delays the inevitable because he is awake and very, _very_ aware when George Weasley visits.

Hyacinth feels the hair on her neck standing up when both men have a staring match. She doesn't do much of anything because she knows that Reborn wouldn't whip out his gun in her house. That much she knows.

What she doesn't know is if George behaves.

"Reborn!" she cries happily, and that is not feigned. He had slept for a while and it had worried her.

"Good morning, Hyacinth," he drawls smoothly. "Who's this?"

George doesn't fidget. He has faced down Death Eaters and the wrath of Minerva McGonagall in her worst temper.

"George Weasley," he answers. "Brother of Hyacinth's best friend."

Their staring match is interrupted when Hyacinth slams an empty tray on the table. "Good," she says sweetly, a tone that masks lethal venom. "You've finally met each other. Now, I'd appreciate it if both of you behave and _not_ throw anything potentially lethal at one another in my house."

The men exchange glances.

.

* * *

.

George eventually breaks their strange testosterone match, conceding to the older man.

"Aren't you a bit old for her?" he eventually asks.

Reborn fights down a smug grin. "Really," he says softly. "Do you truly think she would be happy with a green sapling?"

George thinks of Hyacinth, her old and soul-weary eyes that looked exhausted. "Perhaps," he whispers very slowly. Reborn catches the words anyway. "But she needs somebody to remind her of sunshine and laughter too."

Reborn knows what he means. He is a hitman, the very embodiment of the darkness of the Underworld. But he knows something that George had missed. Hyacinth needed somebody to care for. She needed to be useful. Though it galls him, he knows that being acquaintances with him is a full time job and an occasional hazard.

The redhead hums thoughtfully. "I know you're dangerous, and I won't tell you off," he says conversationally. "Since she seems to attract the scum of the earth or something." Reborn twitches at the backhanded insult but stays quiet.

"But know this, Reborn," there was a hint of a pause in his name, since George knew it wasn't his real name. "Hyacinth may seem like an ordinary woman to you, but she is a very important woman in our circle of friends. If you hurt her in any way, there will be quite a lot of people angry at you."

Reborn doesn't worry about that. He already knows that hurting such a sweet little woman was the farthest thing from his mind.

Hyacinth comes back from the kitchen, bearing tea, coffee and homemade cinnamon buns. There's a rather terrifying smile on her face.

George wilts under it. Reborn just smiles like a satisfied cat.

.

* * *

.

George must have spread the word or something.

There is no more trouble from her friends and Reborn preens in a distinctly feline way. _(She thinks of jaguars and cheetah's, not house cats.)_

Speaking of cats and animals in general…

"Why were you acting like a territorial cat anyway?" she demands when the sudden influx of visitors that is caused by Reborn's arrival finally abate.

Reborn, who was suddenly faced with the knowledge that he was _acting like Hibari Kyouya_ , cringes. "I am not," he disagrees adamantly. "I am merely letting the world know that I am - _(the adjective_ _ **crowding**_ _comes to mind and he curb stomps that to the ground.)_ – staying here for the determinate future."

Hyacinth knows she should be annoyed, but she feels strangely pleased and warm so she doesn't protest, or scold him, of his attitude.

.


	8. Lessons

Over the course of their acquaintance, they teach each other a lot of lessons.

Hyacinth was young, with an open mind and a very broad imagination.

Reborn was old, with set values and set habits.

If things had been different, they would have never met. But they were both fated to meet, and it was mutual interest that kept both of them interested.

.

* * *

.

Reborn had met all of Hyacinth's friends. It stood to reason that she would meet all of his. But the scheduled meeting coincided with Hyacinth's final exams and she was in no fit state to entertain afterwards.

Thus, Reborn learns patience.

He did not begrudge her the rest; he had seen her studying until she had collapsed.

"I won't settle for mediocrity," she says once he asked her. "If I learn something, I will give it all or nothing."

He appreciates that because that is his creed, except in a more extreme manner. Reborn will never allow himself to fail at something.

So he helps her. He is, after all, a tutor. He doesn't use guns, or dynamites because she is a civilian. She doesn't need it anyway. Hyacinth, he learns, is the sort that only needs guidance and would not need further motivation.

Both of them look at the other with new eyes, the experience of the impromptu tutorial teaching both of them something of each other.

.

* * *

.

He tries to cook for her, and nearly ends up exploding something.

Of all the things that Reborn had learned, cooking was never one of them. There were always women to seduce, people to order around or money to throw just to get food. The act of making his own food was a mystery.

Hyacinth wakes up at the imminent explosion, Mippy shaking her awake looking terrified.

"What woke you up?" he demands, looking sulky.

She is exasperated. "My trouble senses tingling from the danger," she says, sarcasm coming out from lack of sleep. "Sit on the table and I'll teach you."

She learns patience of a different sort – the kind that needs one to sigh a lot because her student is incorrigible.

He learns how to cook and how to wheedle Hyacinth into exasperation.

They both end up covered in flour and sauce, laughing at each other. Reborn is dismayed to see his beloved fedora stained and Hyacinth is too busy giggling to help.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth has always been mature, but she lacked the sort of focus that Reborn had developed in his long years of being a hitman.

She learns that as she wavers, attention being caught by the need to draw something, or to distract herself from the words swimming in front of her.

"Youth," Reborn mutters, annoyed at her lack of focus. "Empty your mind. Don't think of distractions."

Hyacinth is reminded so terribly of Snape and she nearly lashes out. But this is Reborn, so she takes a breath to calm down. "When you say empty your mind, a dozen other things come up," she says, voice nearly a snarl.

He catches her face between his hands, black eyes boring into hers with sharp intensity. Her anger falters and she is caught. "Look in my eyes," he whispers. "Calm down. It's all you can see, my hands are all you can feel."

Oh, she thinks dazedly. That's the kind of focus he means.

Hyacinth learns and also develops a difficulty in meeting Reborn's eyes for the next twenty minutes, as well as blushing heavily.

The arse just smirks. He probably did it on purpose. _(Oh, Hyacinth, you naive little thing.)_

.

* * *

.

Reborn learns to laugh more, even as he learns to relax in her presence.

Hyacinth isn't exactly a tame woman, all her friends would attest to that. She is mischief and laughter, sunshine and games. Though her spirit has been tempered by war and hunger, she knows how important it is to keep laughing.

He had forgotten that and she teaches him to laugh again, laughter born of genuine amusement and not just dark, sadistic humor.

For example:

.

"What have you done to my hair?" he demands.

She is laughing too hard to answer. He smears frosting on her dress too and she looks so surprised that he ends up smirking. It turns into full blown laughter and both of them forget they were angry at each other.

.

Hyacinth is hard pressed to keep up with him sometimes and says so to his face. But he is hard pressed to keep up with her too, so he calls her a hypocrite.

She calls him several other names in British slang.

They end up competing for better insults.

Reborn wins from sheer variety.

.

* * *

.

The topic of gun lessons come up last, and it is all the fault of Colonnello.

The blonde sniper crashes one of their reading sessions – a humorous limerick – and Reborn draws his gun for the first time in Hyacinth's home.

Colonnello freezes, hands coming up in surrender and shoulders twitching to drop the massive rifle slung over his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Reborn drawls, temper spiked high at the interruption.

"Don't shoot, kora!" the blonde pleads. "Fon told me and I wanted to meet her."

Reborn's temper spikes even higher and the itch to shoot getting stronger. He has no remorse, Colonnello would survive it. Lal did it all the time.

The tense stare off is interrupted when Hyacinth goes around Reborn and stares at the gun on the ground in fascination.

"It looks so pretty," she remarks. "But it sounded heavy when it fell. What is it called?"

Colonnello seizes the chance eagerly. "It's a 338 Magnum. For sniping, you know?"

She gives Reborn an expectant stare and he sighs, shelving his temper with a warning look at Colonnello.

"There are two kinds of shooting," he starts. "But first, let me tell you that smaller guns are always better. The ones who wield big guns are compensating for something."

Colonnello squawks in the background, but Reborn doesn't care because Hyacinth is giving him all her attention.


	9. Proficiency

Hyacinth tackles learning guns the same way she deals with life: whole-heartedly and with exuberance.

Colonnello watches as Reborn teaches her, eyes shining with curiosity, wonder and _absolutely no fear._

Most people, the blonde had realized a year into teaching in training camps, had fears when holding a weapon. They were pretty stupid fears, like a fear of hurting other people, or a fear of abusing the power a gun gave you.

But the sweet, soft-looking civilian woman was looking at the gun like it was supposed to be viewed: a tool made to serve the purposes of the wielder. She didn't view it as a toy, or a killing machine.

Colonnello liked her already.

.

* * *

.

"Relax your shoulder," Reborn instructs softly. "Don't tense up. Compensate for the recoil."

Hyacinth twitches, shoulders loosening. "Like that?" she asks.

Reborn touches her shoulders and she does a valiant job of not blushing. He squeezes it and gives an approving hum. "Don't fill your lungs with air. That won't help with the recoil. Calm down. It's easier than baking cookies."

At that, her concentration breaks and she is giggling, completely ruining the stance that he had painstakingly coached her on. Reborn rolls his eyes and patiently pokes her back into position.

When she finally fires a shot, the men sit up and turn still because it is a bulls-eye.

Either it was a fluke or she had a natural talent for it.

The blonde sniper blinks several more times when all the next shots are on target.

He gives Reborn a mystified look. It is with an effort that Reborn doesn't return it.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth smiles. "That was fun!" she cries cheerfully.

The handgun Reborn had given her had reminded her of one of the potion-guns that the twins had invented for some pranking in her fourth year. It had been a great way to reduce stress, to see those Slytherin's looking so mortified when all their hair turned green.

"Have you ever shot a gun before?" Reborn asks her. He sounded strange to her ears. There was a note in his voice she had never heard before.

"Hmm," she starts. "I only ever borrowed my cousins water-guns before, and the twins once invented something like it, except it held that mixture that turns hair green. Those certainly weren't as heavy as this."

Her nose wrinkles in distaste and the men chuckle at her expression.

"You're a natural, kora!" the blonde man says with alarming happiness. "You can be a sniper, kora! I teach a class in the summer about surviving in the wild, along with shooting lessons. You can sign up, kora!"

Hyacinth tries not to show how startled she is at the offer. Reborn, beside her, is suddenly looking violently angry. He places a hand around her waist and she stiffens at the touch.

"Wha – " she starts to say but is interrupted by Reborn's growl.

"No," he says softly. "She's busy in the summer. We have plans, Colonnello."

Her eyebrows go up. "We do?" He looks at her then and she saw a desperate sort of light in his eyes. She didn't know why, since she usually detested people making plans for her, but she just nodded. "Oh, alright. I guess we do."

Colonnello watches and tries to become adept at becoming furniture then and there.

.

* * *

.

After coming back from the shooting range, Reborn is more intimate, more prone into giving sudden hugs and was liable to suddenly wake her up by watching her sleep.

The latter irritates her a lot. Hyacinth is a light sleeper by habit. It comes with the territory, especially after being Undesirable Number One for a year. She especially feels it if someone is watching her sleep.

So when she wakes up in the middle of the night to Reborn watching her, she makes a humongous effort not to curse him and instead just asks him what's bothering him. Most nights, he just shakes his head and she turns over. Other nights, he smooths her hair and hums her back to sleep.

But it is on one particular night that Hyacinth is woken by a nightmare of Hermione being tortured while Hyacinth dangles inside a cage above her, watching as her sister in all but blood screams her sanity away.

She wakes up, gasping and suddenly, the dark eyes that watch her is no longer annoying but comforting.

Hyacinth goes to him, already knowing by experience that he had a chair by her door.

She sits on the carpeted floor and rests her head on his lap.

It is the first night since the war that she manages to go back to sleep after a nightmare.

.

* * *

.

Reborn startles when he wakes up to find Hyacinth with her head on his lap.

It must have been an uncomfortable position, with her neck at that awkward angle, but she looked as though it was the most comfortable thing in the world. Being a gentleman, he scoops her up and settles her back on the bed.

Her hands cling to his suit and he sighs, complying with the request and settles beside her.

Hyacinth murmurs his name as she snuggles closer and something warm settles on his chest.

.

* * *

.

Colonnello must have been a glutton for punishment, or for Hyacinth's baking.

He kept coming back, with different guns for her to try out, all with the same results. That somehow, however strange it is, the art student with the propensity to bake and feed all people who dropped by her house, had a natural talent for shooting.

Reborn also kept growling at Colonnello, looking like it is only Hyacinth's presence that stops the promise of violence.

Hyacinth doesn't really mind. She knows that Colonnello truly is Reborn's close friend.

Colonnello and Reborn both looks horrified when she says that out loud.

.


	10. Realizations

True to his word, Reborn takes her to vacation the moment her enrollment papers for the next semester are finalized.

How he found out, she doesn't know.

It is a beautiful place, with an amusement park and a theme park. Behind all of that was private property, a place where one could enjoy the beach privately without the screaming crowds.

Hyacinth loves it and tells him so.

Reborn just smiles at her, an odd little lift in his lips that seems to have made the receptionist faint.

Strangely enough, all the women that sees him looks devastated when they see his arm around Hyacinth.

She absolutely has no idea why.

.

* * *

.

Reborn doesn't know how he did it, but he just found somebody denser than his dame student.

He had been leaving her hints and clues, but the normally sharp mind in Hyacinth's head seems programmed not to function properly in these matters, or probably overlook it.

He sighs and wishes to shoot something.

Fortunately, he knows that she probably, in some measure, returns his feelings, but is too dense to notice them.

 _Hmm_ , he ponders. _Now, to just make her notice._

.

* * *

.

From the start, the plan is a disaster.

Hyacinth doesn't notice when he flirts with other women, nor does she get angry when she finally does notice. She just looks at him and smiles a strange little smile that looks so brittle.

"You're having fun, Reborn?" she asks.

Reborn can't bear seeing that look in her face. It is a parody of a smile.

So he stops the plan to make her jealous. Actually, he just stops all plans and promises to enjoy himself.

 _Someone had hurt her_ , he realizes later in the night. She had a relationship before, not necessarily romantic. Someone had burned her before and that made her question her own worth.

He seethes about that, even as he calls himself all kinds of idiot.

.

* * *

.

It is in the middle of the third week, when a strange, pink-haired woman attaches herself to Reborn that Hyacinth realizes it.

Oh, probably not immediately, but she realizes it when she analyzes why she had such a strong urge to unsheathe her wand and hex the clingy woman to feel the pain of the nine hells.

At that moment though, Reborn is too busy trying to remove his arm from her grasp, all the while the woman is whining at him for not showing up for nearly two years.

Hyacinth has enough when she attempts to kiss him.

.

* * *

.

"Excuse me, leech," a soft voice says sweetly.

Reborn feels a cold tingle run down his back. He stops moving, or attempting to remove his arm from Bianchi's hold. Actually, he just wants to back away. For the first time, he hears the promise of violence in Hyacinth's voice and it is unnerving.

Bianchi stops talking at him as well.

"Who are you?" Bianchi asks. There was an insult in the way she says it that makes his eyes narrow.

"None of your business," Hyacinth says. The usually sweet-mannered Hyacinth was glaring daggers at the Poison Scorpion. "However, Reborn's been trying to remove your person from himself. Do me a favor and assist him."

Bianchi looks on the verge of killing her, but Reborn intervenes.

"Bianchi, she's a civilian," he whispers in her ear.

Poison Scorpion gives him an incredulous look. "In Mafia Land?" she asks. But that is enough to get her hands to unwind around his.

Hyacinth takes the opportunity presented and grabs his hand, a surprisingly strong grip for such a fragile-looking woman.

"Are you alright?" she asks. "What a shrew! I wouldn't be surprised if she was a clunge!"

From thereon, she dissolves into cursing, all of them British slang that he mentally translates with a wince. She is basically calling Bianchi a whore.

"Calm down," he says to her. "Look, the house of mirrors."

It works for the moment. A dark look still crosses her face from time to time, so he knows it isn't forgotten.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth analyzes her feelings via Occlumency that night.

She had such a strong reaction to that woman that it confused her. So she took a breathe and plunged deep into a meditation.

It isn't exactly a deep examination of her mind, more of untangling her emotions and finding out what subconscious thoughts caused them.

She emerges from it with a very deeply violent blush.

"Oh," she says.

She glances to the side, where Reborn is lounging, reading a book when she told him she would be meditating.

He meets her eyes and smirks.

"Oh," she mutters again when she finds that handsome instead of annoying.

.

* * *

.

It is only the next morning, when he sees her putter around the small kitchen, that he realizes that what he had seen on her face the previous night was knowledge.

There is a certain fragility about her when it came to it, and he knows to be careful when he broaches the topic.

She is once again blushing to the roots of her hair, unable to look at him save for a handful of seconds.

That stops when he places his fingers under her chin, and she meets his eyes, a blush staining her cheeks and fire behind her eyes.

The world tilts for a moment, and starts to turn again.

He kisses her and is gratified when she kisses back.

.


	11. Adjustment

Once Bianchi gets over her shock that a woman had actually dragged Reborn and he had gone _willingly_ , she investigated.

No, she did not chase after him. She is not suicidal. She knows that Reborn had limits to his patience with her.

She investigates and comes up short when all her observations point to the fact that both of them act like a couple…or probably is truly a couple.

Bianchi comes to the hardest decision of her life. To stay, or to go. To keep quiet, or to tell Vongola that the World's Greatest Hitman was found with a woman in one of the vacation times that the Decimo had learned to anticipate that Reborn would demand.

She doesn't know why she chooses to keep quiet, but she does know that it hurts her worst than a bullet piercing through her.

.

* * *

.

It isn't all that complicated, yet neither is it simple.

Before they became lovers, they were friends. So in essence, the change isn't drastic.

Yet it is a bit strange for her, because she had a better reason to worry, and to demand answers from him. But she knows him better than some of his friends, and that is why she won't demand answers from him.

The strangest change, for her, is to be able to kiss him without asking for permission.

That is a bit of a challenge. It had taken Hermione and Ron a while to train her out of flinching when they gave her spontaneous hugs.

Reborn notes how she stills when he touches her, before giving him an appropriate response. He doesn't ask. He knows better, but he does seem to make sure to give her a kiss every time he visits because of it.

She falls for him all the more for that.

.

* * *

.

It takes an embarrassingly long time for Reborn to piece together the clues that come out of Hyacinth's actions.

She flinches at sudden touches but appreciates it. She mentions a cousin that took up boxing, the reason why she got good at barehanded fighting.

Tiny, _tiny_ clues that were inconsequential but in hindsight, painted the story of a sad childhood.

It makes him so unbelievably angry but Hyacinth doesn't need more anger. So he gives her love, touch that is kind and complete patient understanding when she doesn't respond appropriately.

It is like watching a flower bloom with a few drops of carefully added. It is a beautiful thing and though he is doesn't believe in God, he says thanks anyway. If another man had caught her before him, she would have been vulnerable to emotional manipulation.

He feels his temper rise at the thought and sits on it before it could do any damage.

.

* * *

.

Not all of it is strange, most of it is welcome.

Especially when Hyacinth wakes up to Reborn in the morning, his warmth and his calming scent surrounding her like her own personal blanket.

It is probably then that she realizes the cure for her inability to get a full nights rest. She knows that if Reborn would find out, he would call it the effect of his presence. While it would be amusing, it would cause him to have that glint in his eye that made her so sad.

"You're like a heater," she finally says when he asks why she likes to sleep with him. "Very warm and very cuddly."

He probably guesses her reasons anyway. But instead of pointing it out, he just drawls out, "Ah, I completely understand your point. I give _amazing_ hugs, don't I?" in such a way that makes her want to hit him.

Another thing would be when he suddenly finds her when she is in the middle of transferring classes.

She is walking, and suddenly an arm drapes over her shoulder but she doesn't panic because she knows it is Reborn by the scent of him.

"I still have Art & Context class next, Reborn," she whispers, though she is doing her best to not sound so deliriously happy. It is a wasted effort.

"Skive with me," he says. "The lecture will be about using the landscape or some such. I know you've already covered that in your previous class."

She is exasperated. "But that wasn't about exploiting the context hidden in a landscape!"she cries.

She skives off anyway and not because of any of his arguments. Simply because she took one proper look at him and understood that he had taken a detour in one of his jobs because her university was close and he missed her.

The small, genuine smile he gives her is a repayment enough for studying late in the night for the lecture she missed.

.

* * *

.

He starts to bring her gifts when he comes back.

They are especially extravagant if he has to leave her for more than a week. She wants to put her foot down because most of them are very expensive, and Merlin knows that she doesn't need more valuables, or antiques.

But she doesn't. She knows he needs to show his affection. He is a man who _acts_ instead of speaking, who acts to _show_ his devotion.

So she starts telling him what to bring, mostly little trinkets she can hang, or food she had tasted before and wanted to try again.

Reborn starts to get the hint and looks through her pantry sometimes to check what she doesn't have so he could bring some back.

What she values most, however, is when he comes back to her unharmed.

That starts to become a rare thing.

.

* * *

.

She doesn't understand why, but in order for Reborn to spend time with her, he devotes a lot of time to his job in a fast paced, back-to-back way that would have burned out someone else within a month.

What she does notice is when Reborn begins to come back to her injured, mostly small scratches but worrying all the same to someone of his profession.

"I can't stand it anymore," she says as she bandages his arm. "You can't keep doing this, Reborn."

He arches a brow arrogantly. "No, I really must," he says. "It's not just about me, you know _amante_."

She chances to look in his eyes and understands. She wishes she didn't. "So you want me to move closer to Italy?" she asks, voice hesitant.

Reborn almost flinches. "No," he says vehemently. "No. Don't' move to Italy. I'll…I'll be more careful, just…don't even think about it."

Hyacinth doesn't understand. Reborn soothes the sting of rejection by giving her a hug, kissing her thoroughly.

"When things calm down a bit," he whispers to her ear. "I'll bring you to _il mio paese_ , but for now, I do not wish to subject you to the turmoil of change there."

Hyacinth sighs. There are things she would never understand but moments like these told her that Reborn hid things from her for a reason.

.


	12. Yesteryears

It is the familiar feel of magic brushing against her senses that has her grasping the handle of her wand.

She is then confronted by a … man? A woman? A _person_ in a black hooded cloak.

"Oh," the person says. "When I heard from Colonnello about Reborn's girlfriend, I didn't expect to see Hyacinth Potter."

Reborn is always telling her that she should react right, but Hyacinth really couldn't help it this time. If people kept surprising her, she might as well surprise them in turn.

" _Girlfriend?_ " she exclaims. "Is that how you call it?"

The voice sounds amused. "What do you want it called?"

Her nose crinkles. "I have no idea. It just sounds so bloody plebian. And by Merlin, don't I sound like Malfoy."

Her visitor laughs. "You certainly do."

That brings her back to it…

"Who are you, anyway?" she demands. "Take off that hood."

Surprisingly, her guest agrees. The hood is dropped back, revealing a female face, with triangular marks on her cheeks. The face is also familiar enough to make Hyacinth stagger back in shock.

.

* * *

.

"Mikayla D'Argent!" she almost shrieks, remembering at the last second that her neighbors would not appreciate it. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?" she asks in a far more quiet tone. "Weren't all your… _compatriots_ …captured after Grindelwald fell?"

Mikayla gives a mirthless smile. "They were," she answers. "All of us captured, and I only escaped by the skin of my teeth."

Her very remarkable purple-brown eyes - eyes that had identified her as Grindelwald's most powerful Battle Mage - are sharp and bitter. That is probably the reason why she wears a cloak, to hide such expressive eyes.

Hyacinth doesn't really care about that. It is obvious that Mikayla had moved on, came to her apartment to ascertain the woman that her colleague is dating, and had received the shock of her life.

"Would you like to have some tea?" she says instead.

.

* * *

.

Reborn wakes up, feeling slightly sore from all the bruises he bore yesterday. Upon inspection, they had all healed, sun flames already clearing away the blood vessels.

His inspection is cut short when he smells tea.

He grins, remembering how appalled his lover was when she saw his purpled skin. He had quipped cheekily that at least he had not lost any blood and the look she shot him was one of pure dismay.

"I understand why you wear a hood," he hears her say. "But isn't there a better option in hiding your eyes?"

He stiffens, listening in. A quick peek around the door tells him that this time, it is Viper seated by the dining table, drinking tea and eating cookies. An _unhooded_ Viper.

What in the world…?

"It's too troublesome," is the reply. "And anybody can undo a glamour. I'd rather not spend my energy on something that gives me no money."

Hyacinth laughs, a cheerful sound that makes his lips twitch in response. "But you look like a complete nutter with that cloak," she says.

There is an ungraceful snort. "Hah! It's how you wear it. I mean, does a fedora really go with the times?"

Hyacinth answers, but Reborn's world has just tilted out of axis. He had never seen, or heard Viper speak that freely with anybody, not even the Varia.

"Reborn," the illusionist calls. "Stop eavesdropping or I'll finish all the cookies."

.

* * *

.

Reborn comes in, and Hyacinth cuts her greeting short. He looked bewildered.

"Good morning," she says tentatively. "Are you alright? Are your bruises giving you any trouble?"

He slides a glance at her and she shuts up. There is something in his eyes that is edged with knives.

"Viper," he says slowly. "What are you doing?"

Mikayla – Viper is covered with a hood again. She shrugs, the movement flowing through the rest of the cloak. It is startlingly elegant and makes Hyacinth drool with envy. "Checking out your lover," is the monotonous answer. "When Colonnello said Hyacinth, I didn't know he meant Hyacinth Potter."

Hyacinth wants to slap a silencing spell on the woman. "Viper," she hisses.

Reborn is looking at her, eyes shadowed. How he does that without wearing his fedora is a wonder.

"Whatever secrets she has," Reborn says softly. "I am sure she will tell me in her own time."

Her lungs expand a bit. "Reborn, you have your _omerta_ but I also have something that binds me to secrecy," she explains. "I will tell you when I manage permission."

There is a snort from Viper. "With who you are," the woman explains under Reborn's gimlet eye. "You probably wouldn't need to ask permission."

That reasoning makes Hyacinth's blood boil. "Nobody is above the law," she snarls, feeling her temper simmer under her skin. "Not even me."

Reborn cocks his gun and Viper sighs audibly, shoulder drooping. "Alright, I'm leaving."

.

* * *

.

Reborn doesn't look at Hyacinth when Viper finally leaves. He tucks back his gun to his hiding place and loosens the tension in his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asks.

It is the first time he had ever seen her lose her temper…or come close to it. He had seen her pissed off, but never so mind-blindingly angry. It is… _unnerving_.

"Her name is Viper?" she asks instead of answering him. The look in her eye is of tightly controlled fury. "She is a fine tea companion, until she mentioned that. Next time, she'll know better. I think she liked my Darjeeling tea."

Reborn barely restrains himself from gaping at her. "Viper just managed to make you angry – something which I haven't seen until now – and you still want to invite her to tea?" he demands.

Hyacinth gives a tight smile. "You can't cast out people just because they made unfortunate life choices," she says. "And besides, Viper is your friend."

He doesn't splutter because he knows better than to give her ammunition, but he does give her a very pointed look.

"Someday," he starts. "Someday woman, I'd like to see you shocked."

That makes her laugh and lose the edge of her temper. Reborn congratulates himself.

Secrets come later. He knows she will tell him anyway.

.


	13. Worry

Hermione is liaison in convincing the minister to get her permission to talk to Reborn about magic.

Annoying as it is, Viper is right and the minister bloody well bent over backwards just to say yes, not even filing the appropriate forms for it.

Hyacinth delays in telling Reborn. Mainly, that is his fault in that he doesn't show up for nearly two months. She is out of her mind in worry, almost failing her classes and making all of her professors concerned.

When he does show up, he is thankfully not injured, but he is so exhausted that he barely manages to walk. She catches him and he immediately becomes dead weight.

Secrets will have to wait. She has a hitman to care for.

.

* * *

.

Reborn doesn't wake up for three days.

She worries, but it is a different sort of worry from before he came home. This time, she worries that she is not giving him the proper care.

Finally, her mind is made for her when a man with lose hair and an easy smile goes through her window, a doctor's jacket slung over his shoulders.

He sees her and opens his mouth to say something, but she beats him to it.

"Oh thank goodness," she breathes. "Are you here for Reborn? He's not waking up."

A quick skim in his mind assures her that he is a good friend of Reborn's, just as the man nods, a kind smile on his face. Normally, she wouldn't, but Reborn is not in a fit state to take care of himself.

"Don't worry, young lady," he says cheerfully, with a promise of steel. "I'll take care of him. He skipped check up from the mission, saying there was someone waiting for him."

While that is a gratifying thing to hear, it is annoying because she doesn't think that she could stand anymore moments like these, when Reborn throws away any care for his well being.

"Just…" she whispers. "Do your best. Do you need anything? Towels…herbs?"

He waves her away. "No, no. Just calm down and knit something," he says.

She takes his suggestion and gets the ingredients for a cake. Cakes took a while and she needed something to distract herself.

.

* * *

.

Shamal sends one last glance to the young woman with a near permanent wrinkle of worry on her forehead for the World's Greatest Hitman and sighs, wondering how the bastard got so damned lucky.

Oh, those eyes! Such a pretty color. Ah…back to the patient.

He enters the bedroom and finds the hitman under the blankets, covered up to his chin with dark shadows under his eyes. He looked the very picture of a corpse, save for the rise and fall of his chest. No wonder.

A quick flick to his case, picking the appropriate mosquito with the corresponding sun flames. A moment's wait and his eyes flutter.

"Shamal," Reborn says, eyes not even fully open. "Why are you here?"

Not even a single word of thanks. Ungrateful bastard.

"Decimo was worried," he explains, perching on the dressing table by the bed. "You left without any checkups. Of course, his intuition was right. You were on the verge of falling into a coma."

Reborn struggles to sit up and the doctor in Shamal is dismayed, though he doesn't show it. "You really shouldn't do that, you know," he says mildly, with the tone of someone who knows he won't be obeyed anyway.

"Hyacinth," Reborn rasps. "Hyacinth."

Lovers! Gah!

"I'll get her. Don't do anything rash," he snaps.

The woman comes at a run with barely any hints from Shamal. She is splattered with cake batter and bits of peanut and chocolate. Reborn ignores all that and holds her hand like it is the most fragile thing in the world.

"You complete and utter arse," she whispers, so softly he almost didn't catch it. "I've been so bloody darn worried that I can't even describe it in words."

Her British accent thickens with every word, making it neigh indecipherable. Reborn evidently understands it by the quirk of his lips.

"Calm down, _amante_ ," he whispers back. "Your roots are sounding."

She manages a laugh at that. "You bloody tosser. I'll show you calm!"

Shamal interrupts before they get to sweet nothings and all that nonsense.

"He really needs rest, young lady," he says cheerfully. "I fixed him already. All he needs is to be responsible and stay down like a good, _sane_ person."

What she says next solidifies Shamal's opinion that they were lovers. "Fat chance that," she responds. "This nutter is the last person on this earth to be called sane."

Reborn gives a weak token of protest that is quickly shushed by a kiss. "Sleep," she commands.

Shamal wants to blend in the furniture. It is just so – to borrow the phrase – _bloody darn sweet._ Gah!

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth catches the doctor before he sneaks back out of the window.

Coincidentally, there is still one last batch of cookies left, along with a packet of Darjeeling tea that Viper left her in one of her visits. At her stern glare, he subsides down a chair and takes the cup of tea offered like a good gentleman.

"What's your name?" she asks. "I'm Hyacinth."

"Shamal," he introduces himself. "Trident Shamal."

She cocks her head to the side like a curious cat. "Like Poseidon's weapon?"

Shamal nearly chokes on his tea. It has been a long time since someone asked him that. "No," he rasps, coughing tea out of his lungs. "Like the Trident Mosquitoes."

He expects her to wrinkle her nose in disgust, but she does so in confusion. "Really?" she says. "What an unfortunate name."

Shamal laughs long and hard. Hyacinth is confused.

.

* * *

.

Reborn is a lucky, _lucky_ bastard, Shamal thinks as he leaves the apartment.

He's already grinning as he thinks of how he's going to tell the Vongola about it. How the bastard kept it a secret is something he wants to know.

.

* * *


	14. Effect

Shamal reports what he found in his hunt for the errant adviser of the Vongola Boss and watches as everything falls apart.

"J-jyuudaime!" Hayato cries out as Tsunayoshi loses the blood in his face so rapidly that it truly was worrying.

"R-Reborn," he croaks out. "D-dating…"

Shamal could almost _see_ the metaphorical thought clouds as the young Don tries to imagine the woman that his scary Spartan tutor would date. A small whimper is heard and Shamal thinks that he has been spending too much time with Reborn, or Hibari, when he finds a vindictive sense of glee in him at the sound.

"She's alright, really," Shamal says cheerfully, just to annoy.

Predictably, it goes over Tsuna's head, just as it makes Hayato spit and seethe like an angry cat.

"Wow," Yamamoto says with a laugh, scratching the back of his head, as was his habit when he was a bit confused and embarrassed. "I didn't know there was somebody who could manage how bossy Reborn is."

That just makes Tsuna give out the sound of a dying animal.

Shamal shakes at the force of holding back his laughter. He remembers the stern, no nonsense woman that had held him with the force of her glare to accept tea and cookies. He's sure none of them are accurate in painting her in their minds.

Hana, who is passing by to submit documents, pauses at the words. Her eyes go wide. "Reborn is finally settling down?" she demands. "That woman would have to be _something_ to make him do that."

The shock passes. Tsuna's vocal cords finally work. Shamal regrets it ever functioned.

"H-hiieee!" he cries belatedly. "S-Shamal! Are you alright? She didn't shoot you, did she?"

Shamal gives up and howls on the floor.

.

* * *

.

The effects of Doctor Shamal's visit is seen when Reborn manages to sit up and wobble, however slowly and surely, to the sofa, where he crashes and pants, giving Hyacinth a pleading look that no one else would ever see.

She isn't a troll. She caves and hands him a plate of cookies.

His triumphant look is hidden as he chews, cheeks full like a dignified chipmunk, but he still exudes it in waves.

Hyacinth rolls her eyes and goes back to cleaning. Her movements are hesitant at best, thinking on how to break her magic to him.

She decides to wait a little longer, until he is no longer so pale and tired.

.

* * *

.

It is probably a combination of her lack of sleep, and a lot of worry piled on top of each other. Her temper simmered underneath the surface, held back by a tight control.

So when she feels someone staking out the apartment, most likely Reborn's acquaintance by the feel of him, she is outright _annoyed._

How dare they come here and disturb his rest!

She waits for the opportune moment until they are in perfect striking distance. She may have been the Gryffindor Seeker, but Oliver Wood had wanted her to try out for Beater too.

With a quick snap of her wrist, she sends the frying pan flying. It aims true, aided by a bit of magic. The frying pan nails the stalker right on the forehead with a _clang!_ That resounded throughout the area.

As quickly as it had come, her temper vanished, leaving guilt and remorse.

"Oh, Merlin," she gasps quietly. "I just probably caused someone a concussion."

.

* * *

.

She hurries to the roof of the building opposite her apartment and finds her victim laden on the ground, groaning a bit.

"Oh, oh Merlin!" she cries. "Are you alright? No, stupid question. Where does it hurt?"

The young man gestures weakly to his slowly reddening forehead.

Hyacinth carries him inside filled with guilt-induced responsibility. She ignores his groans and moans, telling herself that if he truly is an acquaintance of Reborn's, he is probably used to the pain… _just_ …probably not with frying pans.

Her guilt increases and so do her movements.

On after thought, she summons the frying pan back to her and feels even worse when it misses her hand and hits him square on the ribs instead.

"Sorry," she whispers. "Merlin, you are going to be my most battered house guest. I didn't even mean it!"

She really didn't. He came at the wrong time….!

.

* * *

.

Reborn is, unfortunately, awake and whining for food when she comes back with her unfortunate stress-relief target.

He perks up at the sight of the man and looks to be very pleased.

"Hyacinth," he starts. "Why do you have the head of my dame student's spy network on the sofa?"

It is completely unfair that he sounds like he wants to howl to the moon with laughter. She didn't mean to throw it at him!

"It was an accident," she sighs. "I really didn't mean to!"

He listens and keeps his stone face with great effort. Suspiciously, he uses his fedora to hide his face. She just knows he's breaking apart behind that hat.

.

* * *

.

Basil comes to with a groan.

Then he wakes up properly and sits up, looking around sharply and noting all the exits. The last thing he remembers is a frying pan come at him and being too surprised to move.

A singing coming from the kitchen catches his attention and he moves, mincing little footsteps so as not to aggravate his pounding headache.

What he sees makes his eyes widen.

There is Reborn, fedora and all, mixing something in a large bowl. A woman stands over him, waving a wooden spoon threateningly.

The wooden spoon is what holds him and he remembers another seemingly innocent kitchen utensil flying at him and he flinches.

Quickly, he finds the nearest window and flings himself out of it.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth pauses in the middle of ladling the soup.

"It seems that Basil left without even asking you," Reborn says, confirming what she heard.

She pouts irritably. "Honestly, that man. Absolutely no manners!" She goes back to the soup, glancing at Reborn sneaking bites at the dough. "And you! Stop sneaking bits of cookie dough. It's going to give you a stomach ache."

.

* * *

.

The walk back to Vongola Headquarters had managed to mutate the image of Hyacinth standing over Reborn and scolding him for mixing it wrong, to a she-devil wielding a whip and commanding Reborn to mix or _die_.

The first words he says to Tsuna, on his report regarding Reborn's lover is, "She's a demon! A complete and utter demon. I was staking out the property and she suddenly struck, and I did not even see it!"

Basil also develops a strange aversion to kitchen utensils.

.


	15. Revelations

Hyacinth tells Reborn about magic two days after the sorry affair of the frying pan.

He takes it with good grace, eyes sharp and unfathomable as always, hands still and elegant on the table as she proves it by turning the sofa into an alligator and back again.

"I did not tamper with you," she ends up whispering. "I never slipped you any love potions, or casted any spells at you. The only time I ever did give you a potion was to make you sleep so that I could heal you."

He exhales and she tries not to flinch when he reaches a hand over to her, holding her slightly trembling hand.

"I thought there was something … _different_ about you," he says. "I never thought it would be something like a secret magical society."

She finally looks up and sees that he is not frowning, or scowling at her. He is looking bemused and she relaxes minutely.

"Like you're one to talk," she says in an attempt at lightheartedness. "If you're an ordinary assassin, I'll eat a hippogriff."

Reborn finally laughs. "I don't know what a hippogriff is, but you are right. I am The World's Number One Hitman. I am the best at what I do. And I work for the mafia."

.

* * *

.

There is time to assimilate the information later, Reborn thinks. Both of them had been keeping secrets from each other. Since Hyacinth had spilled the beans, that means he could do so as well.

The _omerta_ is a serious affair. One does not break it lightly. But Reborn knows already that the moment he woke up one day and saw the sleeping woman with emerald eyes beside him, he would rather die than let her go.

Her revelation changes things, most of them good, some of them bad.

"Mafia?" she asks incredulously. "Truly, the mafia? I thought that was a fairy tale."

He snorts. "Love, if anything is a fairy tale, it would be magic and secret societies. It's almost like a conspiracy theory," he points out.

She looks taken aback for a moment, and then she laughs.

.

* * *

.

Nothing really changes, but at the same time, everything really does.

Hyacinth uses magic more blatantly in front of Reborn, always watching him if he would flinch, and to what extremes would be too much for him.

She finds out it is the shrinking charm, and transfiguration.

Reborn makes hidden caches all over her apartment, filled with guns, bullets and first aid kits. The first time she catches him making one, she sighs and says, "Well, would you like some potions as well?"

It is the Potions that has both of them relaxing again. Things had been slightly tense after the revelation, but Potions has both of them talking once more, of the pros and cons of different ingredients.

He pockets several vials for future jobs and Hyacinth beams at him. She had wanted to give him some since she found him injured.

They plot caches all over the house and, after some thought, all over different countries too.

This coincides with Hyacinth's week-long break.

.

* * *

.

Reborn takes advantage of the break to utilize Hyacinth's abilities.

He takes her to various safe-houses all over Europe and has her charming them hidden. She promises to teach him how to find them again later.

Somehow, they end up in an expensive hotel in France, the day before Hyacinth has to go back to school. There, Reborn takes away her virginity gently and expertly.

Afterwards, she is sore and he is smug. She smacks him on the shoulder and doesn't speak to him for the remainder of the journey, too embarrassed to talk. He just sits beside her, radiating smug superiority and wearing a shit-eating grin.

.

* * *

.

They find an intruder in her apartment when they come back.

The only warning she has is the flash of steel, the chirp of a bird and the scent of cherry blossoms. She dodges a weapon aiming for her head.

Behind her, she hears Reborn cocking his gun, except he pauses before he could aim it.

"Hibari," he calls out. "What are you doing?"

Hyacinth doesn't pay attention, she is busy dodging. The attacker, this Hibari, might have been fast, but she was used to fighting for her life. Still, he had more experience than her and eventually clips her on the shoulder.

She hears a break and grits her teeth. No, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her cry out.

She would have to use magic.

.

* * *

.

Reborn doesn't interfere, even if he wants to.

This is clearly a test from his dame student – something that brat will pay for. Hyacinth, he knows, will pass the test with flying colors. Whether she would be intact afterwards would be the question.

She is finally hit at the shoulder and Reborn watches as her eyes shine, hair swaying in a non-existent breeze. Her magic is reacting to her pain and he shivers at the scent of ozone in the air.

Hyacinth _moves_ , and it is faster this time, her magic aiding her. She knees him in the stomach and follows that up with a knock on the head that makes him wince. She's clearly pissed off.

Her hand shoots out and a frying pan comes, the first thing that comes to mind. She punches him to the side and it is caught by one tonfa. Reborn hears the crack of her bones and he fidgets, fighting the urge to help.

Too fast, nearly too fast for him to follow, the frying pan comes up and collides with Hibari's head. At the same time, a tonfa lodges itself in her stomach.

It is a draw.

Reborn fights down the urge to laugh hysterically.

It is inappropriate for the moment and he has to bandage her and make sure that Hibari's head survives the frying pan.

.

* * *


	16. Fury

Kusakabe is surprisingly waiting for the outcome of the impromptu fight.

He looks shocked as he sees his boss. Reborn spares this a small hint of amusement, nothing more. He leaves Hyacinth in his care as he storms over to Vongola. He's going to give Tsuna a piece of his mind.

The presence of Kusakabe had told him that Tsuna had not ordered Hibari to see Hyacinth. Hibari, for whatever reason, wanted to see if Hyacinth was worth a fight. Tsunayoshi really needs better control of his subordinates.

Well, this is Hibari, but still!

Hyacinth had cracked two bones. He's the farthest thing from happy.

.

* * *

.

Tsunayoshi, tenth boss of the bloodiest and most powerful mafia in history, feels a shiver go down his spine.

Hayato beside him looks at him with concern.

"Are you alright, Jyuudaime?" he asks.

Tsuna moves his shoulders quickly, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shiver intensifies, feeling like there was an icy hand caressing his back.

"My intuition is telling me something bad is going to happen," he says in a whisper. No need to say things so loudly, people might get alarmed.

Hayato's face is a picture of alarm. "Boss? Shall I recall the others?" he asks.

Tsuna rubs down the goosebumps in his arms. "No, I think it's specifically aimed at me," he says. "Speaking of which, where are the others?"

He answers, though he still looks worried. "Takeshi and Onii-san are on a mission. I-pin and Lambo are escorting Nonno here. Chrome and that pineapple bastard left a note in my office, something about a vacation. Hibari... Actually, I don't know where that bastard is."

The last sentence makes Tsuna's intuition tingle like mad. He sits bolt upright like one electeocuted. "Hayato, where was Hibari last seen?" he demands.

Normally, with that tone, Dying Will Flames would have been flickering behind his eyes, turning the normally brown iris to the auburn of dying embers. However, Tsuna was too panicked to muster any Dying Will Flames at all. In fact, it felt like...it felt like...like when he was still a middle school student and dreading every new day that brought new tortures from his Spartan Tutor.

Oh gods. Reborn...

"H-Hiiiiieeee! Hayato! Reborn's going to kill me! Ahhh!" Tsuna cries, diving behind his right-hand man.

"J-Jyuudaime!" Hayato stammers. "Hibari went to fight Reborn?"

The temperature drops. A shadow falls across the carpet of a man wearing a hat. There is a flash of orange.

"Baka-Tsuna," a deep, low voice growls out.

"H-Hiiiieee!"

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth wakes up to a throbbing wrist and shoulder, and nervous-looking Shamal.

"You're awake!" he breathes out with too much relief. Hyacinth is immediately suspicious.

"What?" she asks. "What happened now?"

"Ahaha," Shamal laughs nervously. "Reborn might have been a bit too overzealous in avenging your injuries."

"What!"

.

* * *

.

It turns out that the unsanctioned attack had pissed off Reborn so much that he needed to vent. This resulted in the destruction of most of the second floor of the Vongola Base.

After his initial fright, Tsunayoshi laughed and said he needed that ambush to keep his senses honed. Not that he could complain anyway, seeing as the Varia destroyed some part of the headquarters every time they visited.

Hyacinth just sighs and tries to get Hibari to _sit down_ and _drink tea_ with her. He is just so high strung that he doesn't even care to say 'good afternoon' or something. Calming Draughts might work, but only if he ingests it.

.

* * *

.

Reborn looks at her in a different light after that incident.

That's alright, because Hyacinth looks at him in a different light too.

He didn't mollycoddle her, neither did he suffocate her. He expected her to manage on her own feet and she loved him because of that. He knew she wasn't useless.

He only asks when she recovers if she wants a weapon other than her wand. He still looked slightly murderous then, so she gives him a hug and tells him that she would answer after he relieves himself with her china plates.

He does so with enthusiasm.

Shamal, passing by to check on her shoulder, is confused.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth opens an apology gift from the Vongola Boss a couple of days later.

It is a Bo staff made of a light sort of steel but is so sturdy that it could probably break a dozen blocks of concrete and still come out unscathed.

Reborn takes one look at it and just _knows_ that Hibari is involved with the gift. He scowls at that and removes it from a bewildered Hyacinth, carving a design on the edges with flames.

He's not being territorial, and he's not in denial.

Hyacinth laughs at him anyway. Damn that woman.

.

* * *

.

Fon drops by and immediately goes into a deep bow.

He is apologetic, but Hyacinth cannot spare that much thought, she is preoccupied by the beautiful blue silk he is wearing. It embroidered with a gold and red dragon and she just _drools_.

"Who is your seamstress?" she interrupts his profuse apologies. "I really love your kimono."

Fon is startled for a moment, before he recovers and laughs, covering his mouth with one trailing blue sleeve.

"I think I know what to give you for your birthday," he says, amused. "I think you are easily pleased, Hyacinth."

She grins with enthusiasm, handing him a cup of tea. "I suppose I am," she says. "Reborn always says so anyway."

They exchange pleasantries, until she starts, hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Oh, gosh. I completely wasn't listening. Why were you bowing and apologizing anyway?" she asks.

He covers his smile with his tea cup, trying his best not to laugh. "I was trying to apologize for my great-nephew. You shot me down rather beautifully," he says. He doesn't mention how she was cooing over the embroidery.

Fon doesn't need to anyway. She blushes a deep red and that is what Reborn comes back to. He scowls at the martial artist.

Fon just smiles knowingly.

Hyacinth is confused.

.


	17. Waves

It's not so much as an immediate effect than it is a slow and gradual thing, like ripples and waves in a pond.

Reborn had broken _omerta_ , by telling Hyacinth. That had consequences, no matter who you were.

The watchers came, increasing little by little. Tiny trickles that slowly widened into a stream-like thing. Reborn senses them and grows incredibly twitchy.

Hyacinth blinks slowly, because she feels them at the edge of her senses, there but not truly there. She whistles to Artemis. She is sending a letter to Hermione on the subject of placing wards in a muggle city.

.

* * *

.

When the first visitor comes, Reborn is already moving when Hyacinth has only had one second to stiffen when it pings on her perimeter spell.

The intruder is a woman, with a strange mark on her right cheek like that of a flame. Reborn evidently knows her. He holsters his gun without even asking (demanding) the usual questions from intruders.

"Lal Mirch," he sighs. "Did he send you?"

She – Lal, nods and removes her goggles. It had covered most of her face, it was that large, and it's removal revealed that she is very _very_ pretty.

Hyacinth coos. "You are very lovely," she says.

Reborn looks heaven-ward but a smile is twitching his lips. Hyacinth knows she is forgiven for breaking into his conversation – slash - interrogation. " _Amante_ ," he says. He is not disguising the affection in his voice. "Won't you prepare tea?"

Hyacinth perks up. How terribly ill-mannered of her, she had forgotten to invite her guest in. (She is conveniently forgetting that the 'guest' had broken in.)

Reborn watches her go with a fond smile.

.

* * *

.

Lal's eyes are sharp as they settle on him. Reborn doesn't give her an inch, knowing that she will take a yard.

"She's sweet," Lal says. She somehow manages to make it sound like an insult. Reborn narrows his eyes.

"Careful," he says softly. "I'm not really in a happy mood. There are too many watchers."

She manages a laugh under his scrutiny. Lal is always brave. Will probably be eternally brave.

"Decimo felt that you needed somebody to help set up a perimeter," she says. "Don't be too angry, Reborn. Everyone needs help once in a while."

That is doubly true for them. He nods to that. But he knows he will have _words_ with his dame student. He didn't need help, thank you very much. And no, _he was not acting like Hibari Kyouya_.

Hyacinth comes back with tea and apple pie. She isn't serving cookies, which makes him repress a pout.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth just wants to _glomp_ Lal and give her the cuddle of a lifetime.

She doesn't know why but she does know that Lal will probably try to shoot her. There is a certain wild look in her eyes that tells Hyacinth that she is trigger happy when touched.

(Somehow, a blonde sniper comes to mind…how strange.)

Reborn has relaxed in the presence of the woman. It makes Hyacinth curious.

"Lal," she starts softly, interrupting whatever Reborn and Lal were whispering about. "Why are you here?"

Reborn's eyebrows go up. It is as rude and impertinent as Hyacinth could get to being rude.

"Protecting you," Lal responds just as bluntly, if perhaps, more rudely. "Reborn is the best, but he can't watch all the time."

She is puzzled. "Protecting me?" she muses. Her emerald eyes go dark and both ex-Arcobaleno go still as they feel, for the first time, the presence of something dangerous lurking behind those happy and sweet eyes. "Really, love. I'm not a flower. I can take care of myself. None of them can pass the wards I have set up. I've gotten rather… _good_ at protecting myself."

Both of them exchange glances. "Be that as it may," Reborn responds. "It will make _me_ feel better."

.

* * *

.

Lal tries not to stare as the _World's Greatest Hitman_ fusses and just wonders if the earth has spun out of axis.

This is weird. Like, Vongola kind of weird. It is a sad testament to her life that it explains everything.

Reborn is generally the cause of Chaos (yes, it deserves a capital letter.) and Weirdness, but he isn't usually the _source_ of the weirdness.

It takes all of her willpower not to blink stupendously.

The woman, Hyacinth, takes after her name. A fragile looking flower that is very beautiful. Lal immediately saw what caught Reborn's attention when she first came in.

It is only when they are eating and Lal is much _too_ uncomfortable because it needed her to socialize and make small talk, when she sees what keeps Reborn's interest.

She isn't _helpless_. Nobody with eyes like that is an innocent, though Hyacinth does a good job of trying to forget. Well, probably not _forget_. Hyacinth is not a civilian, or Lal will eat her gun.

What an interesting woman.

.

* * *

.

Reborn wakes to the sweet sound of humming, Hyacinth's voice weaving a hauntingly sad melody.

He stalks out of the bedroom and encounters her, not at the kitchen like he had expected, but at the sofa where she is flipping through several old albums.

The pictures are moving and it takes him a while to blink that into his head. Then he notices the people in the pictures and recognizes some of them.

"Most of them are dead," she says to him, voice soft and eyes dark with tortured memories. "We that survived aren't…we aren't the same anymore."

There is a story here. He waits it out, wishing he'd had the foresight to get tea or maybe coffee in the kitchen. Heavy stories are always better when paired with drinks.

"Sometimes," she continues. "I wish that the generation that came before mine took better care of their mess, enough that it doesn't interfere and cause such trouble with the ones that come after."

"It's a responsibility," he concedes, thinking of Vongola and how it would have gone better if Primo had fixed what mess he started. Still, he did his best. Primo was so _young_ when they started Vongola. Tsunayoshi was even younger, but he had learned from the past. That was the purpose of studying history, after all.

"I wouldn't have cared much," she is still saying. There is a venom in her voice that makes him pay attention carefully. "But _war_ shouldn't be the legacy children receive."

His eyes go wide. He cannot interrogate Hyacinth because she collapses in his arms, finally dropping the heavy albums.

"It's such a chore to get up in the morning, isn't it love," he asks her softly. "But that is why the world is beautiful, because we are not."

It is an unbelievably cheesy thing to say. She understands though. "I sometimes feel, that if I stand on the roof at sunrise, my sins are being washed away," she whispers.

They are quiet. Their past is dark and murky. There is death and war and _pain._

But somehow, it doesn't feel quite so heavy anymore.

.


	18. History

Her history is shared, little by little.

Reborn doesn't rush her, knowing that he will probably never tell her the full truth about his own past. Before he died. Before he became Reborn.

He accepts what he learns and wonders. Wonders how such a dark and morbid past managed to create such a happy woman, unless she is faking. However, Hyacinth is many things, but she is not a fake.

So he learns and listens, his dried barren heart beating again, slowly and surely.

.

* * *

.

"I'm not whole, Reborn," she whispers to him while they lie in bed. "I don't – I didn't really recover."

His hands, hands that could kill with such ease, are gentle while it moves through her hair. "So you've told me," he answers. "But I don't think anybody is ever truly whole. I know I'm not."

She stiffens at that. She didn't like the implication that he had been broken before, to only be put together with missing pieces.

"You're fine to me," she mutters. Then she blinks, realizing how he had played her. "You arse."

He laughs. "I know. But _amante_ , all people are missing something, one way or another."

She snuggles even deeper into the bed. "All the best people are."

.

* * *

.

It takes a different sort of courage to be able to poke at her past without Hyacinth biting him for it.

Hermione knows that and sends Reborn a letter, thanking him for his understanding nature and commending him for his courage.

He responds – how surprising – and arrogance and confidence practically oozes out of the written word.

Ugh! She doesn't know how Haya can stand him. Like a bloody Malfoy, he is.

But she has been writing letters of communication longer than him and she sees what Hyacinth sees, and envies her for it.

Reborn is a rock, a sure and steady rock. He is not a pillar; nobody with that arrogance will ever be humble. He is a great rocky cliff, a guiding point for sailors at sea and a protection against the weather.

For Hyacinth, with such a turbulent past, Reborn is a beautiful anchor. He will never probably be safety. She had felt how he screamed danger when she first met him. But he is a controlled safety, one where you know where you stand.

Hermione smiles. Finally, there is someone worthy of her best friend.

He's still a great arrogant arse though.

.

* * *

.

Among all the things that Hyacinth bakes, Reborn notices that she never truly bakes a cake.

Being a great believer in biting the bullet (literally or figuratively, Tsunayoshi will tell you) he pokes at that and sees something that he probably wishes not to see.

Hyacinth drops her tea cup and shakes a bit. "No," she says vehemently. "I will never bake a cake. Not again."

There is a shattered look in her dark eyes. He presses a bit, though he holds her hands. "Why not? I happen to like a Bittersweet coffee cake," he says, tone light.

The levity helps, as does his hands. Her shaking lessens. "Stop being so bloody curious," she responds. "It's not a nice thing to remember."

"All dark things are," he answers.

She takes a deep, fortifying breath and tells him.

He wishes he had not asked.

.

* * *

.

_There is a little girl, standing by the counter with the use of a stool so that she could see over it. There is a mixing bowl filled with cake batter, looking monstrous in her small hands._

_She mixes it, hands shaking with effort. She is tired but she perseveres._

_By her left, an oven is being preheated and it makes her speed up her mixing, however difficult it is._

_Slowly, the cake batter is poured in the pan and it is slid in the rack. Her hands are red, but she doesn't rest. She takes all the utensils she had used and puts them in the sink, and starts pouring the dishwashing liquid._

_All of these are normal things for a housewife, but not for such a young girl._

_She succeeds, astoundingly. Nothing burns and she serves it to her aunt's family with a smile._

" _I hope you didn't put anything bad in this, little freak," Uncle Vernon says._

_But no, it is good. Not perfect but especially good for such a young girl._

_A speculative gleam enters her aunt's eyes at the end of the meal. "It's good," she says. The girl beams at the praise. "You'll bake a cake for my Dudders every day. Make sure you don't burn anything."_

_It is a struggle, at first. It gets easier as her body handles the strain, especially when Uncle buys her an electric hand mixer. Then it is a terrible thing, because Dudley is a growing boy and his appetite gets larger and larger. Combined with Uncle Vernon's appetite, her recipe is multiplied six times._

_She is thoroughly sick of baking cake, but she dared not stop._

_She wants to bake something else, but she couldn't because her aunt wouldn't like it, and if she did, she'd have to bake that along with the cakes._

_She lies in her little cupboard and tries to get some feeling back in her arms._

_She wishes to never see a cake ever again._

.

* * *

.

Reborn's eyes are dark.

For once, he had gone to Decimo and looked over the files, looking for a job. He needs to take his frustrations out where it wouldn't hurt civilians.

The quick and efficient killing is something he has down to an art form and it is a soothing balm to his soul. But he still is pissed off.

It's his fault for asking and he truly wishes he hadn't asked.

He doesn't pity her. Gods knows that she would knee him in the groin when she finds out. But he is angry, irrationally so. He doesn't even know why.

So he settles in a café, brooding over his espresso (which isn't as good as any espresso Hyacinth brews for him). He turns away from the cake selection, hiding a flinch.

A young woman slides into the seat opposite, eyes wide, blue and innocent. There is a mark of a flower under her left eye and her dark hair is tied back.

"Brooding doesn't suit you, though you could star in those dark, tortured films and make it work," Yuni says, eyes twinkling with mirth.

He scowls at her, relaxing a little. Reborn cannot truly lash out at Yuni. "I am _not_ brooding," he says.

She steals a bit of his cookies, making him repress a pout. She shakes her head a little, as though not believing his audacity.

"There are some things you can never change, Reborn," she tells him, finally serious and eyes turning sad. "And there are some things that you learn to work around. Your lover has is working around that, with the cookies she bakes, but she is scarred. One day, she will bake a cake out of her own wish and she will heal."

He doesn't answer her. There is truly no answer to that.

"You are angry," she continues. "Because you wish she did not experience it. But she does not need your anger. She just needs you. Go home, Reborn."

Yuni gives him a compassionate smile as she leaves. Reborn tips his fedora at her reflexively.

"Bring her to the ball next month," she says. "I think Tsuna-san will enjoy meeting her there."

He finishes his espresso and leaves, anger gone.

His sadistic side is sitting up and cheering at the thought of further traumatizing his dame student.

.


	19. Preparation

Shopping had never been Hyacinth's strong point. This led to her staring like a lost puppy in front of the selection of cocktail dresses.

"What on earth happened to the back of that dress?" she says to Reborn, looking truly bewildered that the hitman doesn't quite dare to laugh.

Instead, he smiles. It is a gentle one that doesn't mock her. "Some parties usually lead to the couples going to the back room," he answers. "Nobody really does modest so well these days."

.

* * *

.

It is lucky that Reborn is one of the more dressy people and he wrangles her to choosing several dresses that has her blushing at the suggestive designs.

Well, it wasn't as much suggestive as flattering, but try telling that to someone who had only worn two dresses in her life and both were rather conservative, and all of seven years in _robes_.

His face is openly admiring as she goes through several of them and then freezes in sheer amazement when she comes out in white silk, trimmed with gold.

"Well?" she prods, the only sign of fidgeting being the slight twitching of her hands.

Reborn swallows and says, " _Amore mio_ , you are not doing me a favor here."

Hyacinth blushes bright red. "Why?"

He glares at her, but she knows it is in jest. "I am half-tempted to end this infernal party early, so that I can spoil an angel."

For she does look like an angel and despoiling something so pure was very _very_ tempting.

.

* * *

.

Reborn may think that his usual suit and fedora was good enough for a party but Hyacinth thought different.

"No," he says, almost pouting. "I don't have to and you can't force me."

Her eyes gleam green and a smirk forces itself out of her lips.

Reborn soon found himself in another shopping district, slightly nauseous by the method of transport (apparition) and dazedly acquiescent, that is, until he realized he was putting on a silver cowboy hat and his sensibilities woke him up violently.

"What in the hell, woman?" he demands. "No, I am not wearing that hat."

Hyacinth is laughing. "Oh, Merlin," she gasps, quietly holding her laughter. "I was betting on when you would notice. No, I don't think I'm brave enough to be seen with you wearing something like that in a party either."

Reborn rants. "And it's not even a quality Mafia hat," he says. "Not Italian silk either."

She smothers her amusement when he takes charge, dragging her to another store and picking out an outfit. Reborn was just sometimes too easy when it came to being goaded.

.

* * *

.

Perhaps there was a reason why both of them got attracted to each other.

Hyacinth is staring at the box at the foot of the bed while she is feeling the weight of another box inside her bag.

She had brought Reborn a gift while they were shopping, and it seemed like he had the same idea.

It is a set of jeweled hairpins, sharp enough to stab a person through and pick locks at the same time.

Ah, how strange. She had brought him cufflinks, with a small, retractable chamber to store in something. Like poison.

The application seemed to apply to Reborn too when he got her gift, if the wicked smirk on his face was any indication.

.

* * *

.

Men were simple to dress and Reborn was experienced enough to do her hair. Neither of them trusted anyone else to do it for them anyway.

He curls her hair, shaping it in an elegant knot and there is a strange feeling. Most people who touch her hair are professional hair dressers who are muggles and thus, have no idea who she is and house-elves who can't even betray her under force of a magical bond.

Reborn's hands are always calloused and the rough touch is almost sensual.

She is flushed and breathing a bit heavier than usual when he finishes.

Reborn looks up and finally notices what he was doing. His arrogant smile makes her want to hit him, but she wasn't sure if she could trust her knees yet.

.

* * *

.

There had been a debate about transport, before Hyacinth became distracted and announced, in a completely different topic, that there were enough ingredients to bake a batch of cookies.

Reborn is torn between cookies that came with and travelling on a plane without the cookies.

In the end, the cookies won, and he almost burns his fingers in eating it straight from the oven.

Hyacinth is smiling indulgently as she starts another batch while he is distracted.

When Reborn finally glances up to check the time, does the calculations for the time difference in his head, he nearly panics. Hyacinth had long since given up in stopping him from eating and is patiently waiting at the side.

At a word, they apparate to the ball and Hyacinth's nerves show up at the lights and the noise.

.

* * *

.

"Are you alright?" he asks as they pass by the guards at the gates. There had practically been no interference when the guards saw Reborn's face, but there were gawks at the white tuxedo and white fedora with a black band he was sporting.

"I'm fine," she answers, voice in a higher pitch than normal. "Completely fine. I am not panicking."

He gives her the look that deserves but doesn't quite manage to call her out on it before they are announced. The look of vaguely concealed panic transforms to bland politeness while the hand that clutched at his arm turns to steel rods.

"Ah," he continues softly. "I see. You are not panicking at all. That explains the grip you have on my arm."

She gives him a dark look but he continues on blithely, with all the sadism that Vongola knew him for. "You'll be fine! I just checked their reports on you and I really do wonder why they are giving you the codename "She-demon."

.


	20. Dance

There is a hastily muffled whimper somewhere in the vicinity, but Hyacinth cannot really spare her attention.

The decorations and the music are brilliant. She is fairly drooling at some of the dresses she is seeing. The fashion and the cut is questionable, but the color scheme…

"Oh Merlin," she says to Reborn, eyes bright and shining with happiness. "Reborn, this is beautiful."

He is smiling genuinely. "Perhaps I should have just tempted you with the clothes," he says.

She laughs and it is enough. He whisks her away to dance and damns the consequences.

.

* * *

.

Sawada Tsunayoshi and Dino Cavallone, tenth bosses of each of their Famiglia's, are unfortunate enough to be drinking champagne when they spot the striking couple.

Amidst the spluttering of wrongly inhaled beverage and the fussing of concerned subordinates, Tsuna and Dino exchange looks of horror.

"What's wrong, boss?" Romario asks almost in synch with Hayato.

Dino swallows several times. "R-Reborn," he stammers. "Is with a _date?"_

Everyone who hears him looks to the direction his gaze is and suffers the same moment of shock. For poor Tsuna, who actually knew who the woman was, the emotion he feels is a different shock altogether.

"She's actually here," he whines to himself quietly. It is a small panic attack compared to the old panic attacks he used to have when he was younger but it is a panic attack nonetheless. "I hope she isn't armed. Oh, what am I thinking? She's dating Reborn. She probably sleeps with a knife under her pillow or something."

Hayato looks over his boss while Tsuna has his small bit of drama, well used to this habit to panic over it too. Takeshi just smiles beside him, half tempted to scratch the back of his head.

"Maa, maa, Tsuna," Takeshi laughs, doing the actual soothing. "She can't be that bad. Whatever did Basil say, anyway?"

Tsuna actually _wilts_ again when he recalls the reports.

Takeshi shares a helpless glance with Hayato and then just picks a fight to relieve the tension.

.

* * *

.

It is completely strange to see Hibari Kyouya _smiling_ when attending one of Vongola's compulsory balls. It is, as he had called it once, crowding with weak herbivores who merely wanted the protection of the stronger carnivores.

More than one Mafioso actually did a double take when they saw him smiling. All of them paled too when they saw which direction he was looking at and it was at the spectacle at the dance floor.

Nobody actually really _danced_ in parties, even if there was a dance floor. Paranoid Mafioso and all that, coupled with the fact that dancing made you so visible that you were an easy target.

"It's Reborn," someone mutters. "Of course he'd do it."

There is a sharp nudge and then someone else adds, "Doesn't explain why Hibari is smiling like that."

No. It really doesn't.

.

* * *

.

The beautiful rhythm of the dance is interrupted by Hibari and Hyacinth scowls at him.

"Honestly," she says, completely exasperated and missing Reborn's darkening visage beside her. "You are such a high-strung boy. You could have waited until after the waltz."

He says nothing and just gestures, holding his hand out expectantly. Hyacinth sighs, looks at Reborn and nearly cringes at the very impressive scowl he is directing towards the younger man.

"It's only for one dance," she chides.

Reborn sharpens his glare but eventually relents.

Hibari exudes smugness. Hyacinth wonders why she feels like a piece of territory.

.

* * *

.

Lal Mirch and Colonnello are talking to Verde when Reborn stalks over, a thundercloud almost forming over his head, such was his temper.

"Reborn?" Colonnello prods.

Reborn downs one glass of champagne and then pinches the bridge of his nose. "That damn brat," he says as though in explanation. "He better not upset Hyacinth."

The three of them look to where he is gesturing and blink as one unit.

"You brought your lover here?" Lal Mirch asks, being the only one brave enough to do so. "Is that wise?"

The hitman gives a delicate sniff. "Yuni insisted. And Hyacinth heard about it and that one loves parties."

Verde finally gets out of his surprise. "That is your lover? She looks like a stiff wind would knock her over."

Lal and Colonnello both look at each other and discreetly inch away. Especially since Verde _still_ didn't get a clue that Reborn's hand is moving closer towards where he kept his guns.

.

* * *

.

Before Hibari could cause an incident, Fon interrupts. A good thing since a second song is beginning and Reborn only agreed to one dance.

"Kyouya," Fon cuts in with a smile. "Let me take over for a while. Decimo looks like he would like to meet her."

Like a good Guardian, even if he is a Cloud, Hibari had been watching over his Sky. Discreetly of course. And though Tsuna looks a trifle pale, there were no debilitating injuries on his person.

_Not his concern._

When he looked back, his grand-uncle had managed to whisk away the female carnivore.

With a growl, he stalks away and looks for some rule breakers to beat up.

.

* * *

.

Basil, being the good CEDEF Head, is in Tsuna's vicinity when Hyacinth is lead there by Fon. His face gained a greenish tint and he wobbles alarmingly.

"Basil-sama!" his assistant says, looking quite worried.

"It's the she-demon," he mutters, eyes glazed. "A she-demon in the ball. Someone hide Decimo!"

Thankfully, no one takes him seriously, being that his subordinates are half-wondering if he is drunk.

When Fon introduces her to Tsuna, Basil makes a sad whimper because he knows his good boss will introduce him, if only to share the pain.

.

* * *

.

Kyoko-chan is there and that is what makes Tsuna mask his wilting and wailing. Adding the factor that Reborn is _somewhere around_ , then it is enough for him to make a brave face, just so that he doesn't get shot.

Dino is in the same boat. Ah, well. Reborn's students get pretty good at acting strong and assured even if they want to run screaming in the opposite direction. Tsuna supposes it is a self-defense mechanism.

"Hello!" the newly introduced Hyacinth greets. "You have very lovely eyes."

_Wait…what?_

He blinks at her and Takeshi saves him from stuttering when the Rain Guardian laughs jovially. "Waah! You have really nice eyes too."

She beams at the group. The smile is reminiscent of Yuni. "Thank you! I really like your party. Though I wonder why no one is else is dancing."

Someone from the back gives the whimper of a dying animal. Tsuna finally relaxes, his Hyper Intuition purring in contentment.

"How do you know Reborn?" Hayato asks, ever the suspicious one.

Her smile brightens. "Ah, Reborn. He is so nice, isn't he?" she says. "He liked my cookies, you see."

Half of the people who overhear want to shout. The other half want to faint.

Tsuna finally smiles at the non-answer. This is Reborn's lover, someone who conceals information with smiles and distracting answers.

Though she still terrifies him, he likes her already. Kind of like Xanxus.

No, he won't tell anyone of that comparison, _ever._

.

* * *

.

Reborn slips into the group seamlessly, so suddenly _there_ that some Mafioso startle and spill their drinks.

" _Amante_ ," he greets, sliding a hand around her waist. "You've finally met my other two students."

Hyacinth gives him a look of pure glee. Not everyone notices.

"Really?" she asks, voice still in that gentle tone she uses when she is planning a prank. "They look very capable, Reborn."

He coughs a laugh. So that's what she was aiming for.

"Yes," he answers. "All my students are accomplished. I never fail. _You_ should know."

A pin could be heard dropping. It takes supreme effort in holding back his laughter.

"W-wait," Dino splutters. "He tutored you too?"

Hyacinth, being the prankster that she is, nods happily, a completely adoring smile on her face that he knows she'd make a face at later.

"He was a brilliant tutor," she says. "I aced all my exams! I really do recommend having Reborn as a tutor. It's a guarantee pass."

Dino faints and Tsunayoshi is held up by a hand he had placed around Kyoko's waist. Still, he staggers, gaining a look of concern from the oblivious girlfriend.

Hyacinth muffles a snicker into Reborn's bicep.

.


	21. Encounters

There is someone watching, and though Hyacinth is aware that she is catching a lot of attention, this stare is weighted and heavy.

For someone who had survived a war, it is not a nice thing to be watched with such gravity. It usually preceded something bad happening. In her experience, anyway.

Luckily, Reborn had even more enhanced senses than her.

"Mukuro," Reborn calls out after he _deliberately_ puts down his glass of champagne. "You creepy brat. Stop lurking around."

There is a coalescing of purple beside Hyacinth and suddenly, a man is there with a distinctly spiky hair arranged in a strange way. How odd. For some reason, it reminds Hyacinth of pineapples.

"Kufufufu," he laughs in greeting. "As sharp as ever, Arcobaleno."

Reborn's dark eyes somehow _sharpens_ and between one blink and another, Hyacinth finds herself in Reborn's arms. How that happened, she had no idea.

Mukuro, the young man, pouts. There really is no other word for it.

"Ah! And I wanted to meet your lover. But there is a distinctly… _different_ feel around her," Mukuro says. "I wonder what that is."

Reborn actually _rolls_ his eyes. "And that makes you sound even more creepy. I will have to scold Tsunayoshi. He is becoming such an enabler."

Here, the Mukuro's mismatched eyes narrow. "Oya, no need to involve the little Vongola."

But Hyacinth has had enough. Efficiently, she wriggles free of Reborn's hands and then goes closer, making the conversation fall silent.

"I can't believe it," she mutters and it is heard by both men clearly. She peers at Mukuro's eyes and looks disbelieving. " _I can't believe it_. Reborn, there seems to be something written in his eye."

There is a beat of silence and Reborn snorts.

.

* * *

.

There is an eleven year old at the party.

Hyacinth doesn't really notice him at first, but this is her manner of enjoying parties.

She goes around, flitting like a social butterfly, hanging on the fringes of conversing groups to admire the cut of their clothes. Occasionally, she sighs over their badly done hair or mismatched color coordination. If she comes with a date, then she would dance the night away until she can't feel her feet.

But Reborn is busy being intimidating. Something about being a hitman, he said. So she goes back to her old standby and watches.

That is when she spots the eleven year old.

He is hanging by the food area, stuffing his face in and wearing a suit.

Hyacinth coos.

.

* * *

.

"You are so cute," Hyacinth says to the boy.

Bright green eyes, almost as green as hers, blink up at her. His cheeks are bulging with food and his hair is a controlled, puffy mess. Hyacinth has to curb her impulse to pat his hair and see if it is as soft as it looks.

He swallows the food with difficulty, eyes streaming. Hyacinth hands him a napkin and he accepts it. "Thank you," he says as he pats himself clean.

She blinks. Nothing quite tests a person's English than those two words and he had absolutely no accent despite the foreign cast to his face.

"What's your name?" she asks instead.

"Lambo. Bovino Lambo," he answers, still in un-accented English. "Are you here with someone?"

Hyacinth smiles. Ah, what manners!

"I'm here with Reborn," she says, completely missing the way his face twitched with annoyance. "He's a bit busy now, so I'm people-watching."

He cocks his head to the side. "People-watching?"

.

* * *

.

Lambo is an absolute gem.

He points out pertinent people and make interesting commentary. Hyacinth has to smother her laughter because it would draw attention to their little alcove.

"That there is Creepy-Mukuro. He makes illusions," Lambo pointed.

"I met him," Hyacinth says. "Do you know that his red eye has something written on it? I wonder how that happened."

Lambo gives her a look of wonder. "Yeah. I mean, I never asked how that happened either. Maybe it's the result of doing too much illusions."

Lambo points to another person. "That one is Nii-san," accent comes into his voice then. "He boxes and he glows."

Hyacinth listens and smiles.

.

* * *

.

It just so happened that one of the people Lambo points at was Xanxus.

If there is anything that catches Hyacinth's attention, it is feathers and Xanxus had that strung in his hair.

Like one drawn by a string, she goes to Xanxus and notes the minute twitch that the other equally _fascinating_ people do when they see her.

"What is it?" Xanxus asks, voice deep and gravely. He is nursing a glass of wine and that probably attributes to the lack of vehement cursing.

"I love your feathers," she says, eyes not leaving his hair. "What species of bird is that?"

.

* * *

.

Reborn looks for his lover and blesses the practically of Mafiosi.

Nobody really wears white in parties. There is too much chance of stains sticking to clothes. But with magic, Hyacinth doesn't really care. And she had wrangled him in white too, but that is worth looking at the shock on other people's faces.

She is easy to spot, being the only other person wearing white in the party.

Then he notes who she is with and stops a particularly vehement curse.

.

* * *

.

Reborn arrives, in the fringes of the Varia group, just in time to see Xanxus set aside his glass of wine.

Despite the situation, he can't help but listen in.

"You've got to be shitting me," Xanxus is saying. "That is not true."

Hyacinth is nodding earnestly. "True! Viper can confirm it. There's really a sort of whisky that makes fire come out of your ears. We call it firewhisky but if you drink it too fast, it can burn your stomach lining too."

Reborn's eyebrows go up. Xanxus looks like he's pouting.

"I've been wanting something to actually make me drunk," he says. If it were anybody else, Reborn would have been put in the image of a sad puppy. Given that this is _Xanxus_ , it would probably have to be a lion…or a dragon.

"Ah," there is immense sympathy in Hyacinth's face. "Too high metabolism?"

Reborn needs to interrupt before Xanxus can declare Hyacinth to be his new best friend or something. If both of them put their mind to it, they can probably conquer the world and cover it with wine and flashy, colorful clothes.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is settled by Reborn into a table filled with the former Arcobaleno.

"Stay here," Reborn says firmly. "Honestly, the things you get into. I can't take my eyes from you for one second."

Hyacinth shamelessly smiles at him. The others simply _stare_.

There is their hitman, completely wrapped around the finger of one fragile looking woman.

"Everyone, this is Hyacinth," Reborn introduces her. "Hyacinth, this is everyone. Some, you already know."

Mammon, Fon, Colonnello and Lal raise a hand in greeting. A smiling, thirteen year old Yuni with a really shocked Skull and Verde blink at her.

"Hello!" she says in greeting. "I love your diversity. Are all of your hair colors natural?"

Verde splutters and, being seated right beside him, she leans close and peers at the roots of his hair.

"Woman," he says. "Have some restraint."

Reborn's eyes gleam but while everyone else glances at him uneasily, Hyacinth pats Verde's nose sternly, a look of steel in her usually gentle eyes.

"Don't be so mean," she scolds. "If you keep talking like that, you'll never be able to keep a lover."

It breaks the ice as everyone laughs. Reborn squeezes her fingers approvingly.

.


	22. Socialize

Squalo often wonders why he has Rain Flames when his personality is the exact opposite of calming.

But then again, this is the _Varia_. It attracted weirdo's and the extremely deranged ones that polite society wouldn't hesitate to execute. Case in point: Lussuria, who had vaguely pedophilic tendencies.

That brought his focus to his boss, who had been mournfully eyeing his cup of wine like it did something to personally offend him.

.

* * *

.

"What the hell, shitty boss?" he asks, more out of curiosity than anything.

Xanxus _puts aside_ the cup of wine and gives him a baleful glare. Out of instinct, he readies a coil of flames in him.

"Where the hell is that damned midget?" he growls out instead.

Even if Mammon was no longer the size of a toddler, it is reflex to call her that. Especially since she scowled _brilliantly_ every time they called her that.

"She's with the other Arcobaleno, boss," Levi answers, that annoying worshipping tone in his voice.

Squalo really wants to kick him.

Speaking of kicking…

There was that woman who wore _white_ of all things. Who, after talking to the boss and making him pout, left with _Reborn._

"Hey boss," he calls out and Xanxus stops making fun of Levi.

"What?" he growls.

"What do you think of that woman?" he asks.

Their minds are in synch enough that Xanxus immediately knows who he means.

He grins, sharp and lion-like. "That one is not trash," he says. "I like her."

And Squalo wonders if what he's feeling is what people call a _heart attack._

.

* * *

.

Yuni slowly sidles up to Hyacinth, slightly pushing Reborn to the side.

The hitman, of course, notices but he has been long since acquainted with both women that he just rolls his eyes and eavesdrops as the former Sky Arcobaleno chats up his lover.

"Hello!" she says. "I'm Yuni."

Hyacinth blinks out of her scrutiny of a slightly shivering Skull and smiles back at the young woman.

"Hello!" she answers. "I love your smile."

If possible, the brightness of Yuni's smile increases in wattage.

"Thank you!" she says. "I love your eyes. Now, what do you think of Reborn? Isn't he such a bear?"

Hyacinth giggles. "He is! Especially before he's had his coffee. It's adorable."

Reborn tries to protest that he is _not adorable_ , thank you very much. He is still a member of I Prescelti Sette and the World's Greatest Hitman.

Hyacinth smiles at him and he gives it up as a lost cause.

.

* * *

.

Skull tries to leave the party, _not running away_ , because Reborn's lover really had a creepy stare.

No, not creepy. The better word for it is _invasive_. Almost like Verde's, except Skull knows that the scientist wouldn't actually dissect him. Skull had managed to get Verde to sign a clause that he wouldn't go near him with a scalpel or operate on him in anyway.

Hyacinth was still scary because he had forgotten to bring that contract.

He has secrets and he would do anything to keep them.

Green eyes peering up at him make him flinch and flail. He almost screams as he inwardly wonders how she got in front of him without his notice.

"Wh-what?" he stammers. "You've been staring at me."

Nearly on automatic, he looks over her shoulder and finds dark eyes staring at him, practically _daring_ him to make her cry.

He gulps and nearly misses her answer.

"By Merlin," she remarks. "I can't believe that mark is on you."

Skull feels his heart leap to his throat.

"You can see it? Are you…" he trails off and they stare at each other.

If she could see the mark on his eyes, then she is one too. A descendant of the Peverell's and touched with Death.

Hyacinth finally smiles at him. "Ignotus," she says, shaking his hand firmly.

Skull feels an answering smile bloom on his face. "Antioch," he says.

Reborn looms over her shoulder and Skull stifles a squeak.

.

* * *

.

"What was that?" he demands to his lover.

She gives him a secret smile, one of those kinds of smiles she reserves just for him. His ire goes down a little.

"I'll tell you later," she whispers. "But Skull is a relative and it goes back to nearly the very beginning of the seventeenth century."

Reborn tugs on his sideburns and sighs. "Woman, you have a way of making simple things, complicated."

Hyacinth beams like it is a compliment.

.

* * *

.

Half-way through the party, the ninth boss of Vongola arrives and they see Decimo doting on the smiling old man.

Hyacinth watches along with the rest, eyes bright and curious.

"Who's that?" she asks out loud, the question directed to no one in particular.

A young man answers her, a scarf around his neck and a mild smile on his face. "That is Nonno, the old boss. He is Tsuna-san's grandfather."

Reborn comes back from wherever he had threatened Skull, and he drapes a hand over her shoulders. "He's my good friend," he whispers in her ear.

She smiles. "He has very sad eyes," she says. "Wise, kind and yet very sad."

Reborn squeezes her hands.

.

* * *

.

Reborn drags her over to meet Nonno once everybody starts to mind their own business again.

The old man gives her a charming smile. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Hyacinth."

She smiles back, mouth curling impishly in a way that makes Reborn want to groan. "Mine as well," she says.

It's just his luck that his old boss and his lover get along brilliantly.

.

* * *

.

Reborn excuses himself once their heads start to huddle together. He wants plausible deniability.

He finds Fon with his old apprentice and settles firmly in the chair beside them.

"Are you alright?" Fon asks.

I-pin is also looking at him with some concern.

"I'm fine," he says firmly. "If something gets set on fire later, I don't know anything about it."

He knocks back two shot glasses in quick succession.

Minutes later, there is a couple drunk waltzing in the middle of the abandoned dance floor and Hyacinth settles in beside him, a pleased smirk on her face.

"Nonno has some cunning," she remarks. "Some of the things he knows are brilliant."

Reborn looks at her decides to ask later.

The dress had slipped down and bared one creamy shoulder, and all questions vanish in his mind.

.


	23. Guests

It is almost as though the formal introduction is an invitation.

Hyacinth doesn't mind, seeing as she is receiving guests that she previously didn't know about and having conversations that would have made Hermione and Mrs. Weasley angry. Well, they were highly appropriate, but they were _Reborn's associates._ Enough said.

In turn, this made Reborn twitchy as anything and grumpy but this depended on the guest.

That smiling fair-haired man with the scarf made Reborn subside a little, though he gave really strange commentaries, going so far as to rank her cookies of all things.

 _Xanxus_ though. She'd never seen Reborn make that expression _ever_ until the feathered man knocked on her door.

.

* * *

.

"What are you doing here?" Reborn growls, having been the one to answer the door.

Xanxus smirks. "Why?" he asks, a smug tone in his voice. "Afraid I'm going to steal your lover?"

Any word or bullet that would have been the answer is interrupted by Hyacinth's voice. It drifts from the kitchen, the evidence of something bothering her in the quantities she is cooking.

"Reborn, who is it?" she asks.

Reborn grits his teeth and opens the door wider.

He thanks his ancestors that the Varia Leader comes alone, because he really can't deal with more assassins in his lover's home.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth's eyes, dull and a bit distant since she received a letter from an owl, brightens up when she finds the man on her sofa.

"Xanxus!" she cries. "It's good to see you. Are you here for the firewhisky?"

Xanxus chances a glance at Reborn, who is lounging by the wall, his hands hidden by the folds of his suit. He makes up his mind.

"Ah, I'll drink it in the headquarters," he says. _He doesn't_ sound uneasy. "But I did hear about your cookies."

Hyacinth beams at him. "Brilliant." Then she glances at Reborn too and sighs. "Love, do stop sulking. I know it isn't chocolate chip cookies, but I did vanilla ice cream too."

Xanxus raises his eyebrows when Reborn immediately straightens up to follow her. At the threshold of the kitchen, Reborn gives Xanxus a look that would make a lesser man piss himself.

It's a threat and a warning for a good behavior.

_How interesting._

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth's eyes are sharp even as she serves Xanxus food.

"So what's the news?" she asks. "You're looking a bit tired."

He startles, "What?" he says before he can stop himself.

She smiles at him, green eyes kind. "It's alright, Xanxus. You can calm down here. We'll watch over you."

Tension that he didn't know he had eases from his shoulders and he sighs.

"Thank you," he whispers.

Reborn is studiously looking out of the window, nursing a cup of espresso.

.

* * *

.

Reborn sometimes forgets that his lover isn't like Iemitu's wife. Nana Sawada and Hyacinth are both beautiful and caring, but that is only as far as similarities go.

Nana was content to remain ignorant but while Hyacinth acts carefree, she isn't ignorant. Her eyes sometimes turn dark with returning memories.

He sees that fighter and that survivor surface as she watches Xanxus doze on her couch.

"He's so sad," she murmurs, cookies forgotten in front of her.

"He's gotten better," he tells her, voice equally soft. "Before Tsuna got to him, Xanxus just _hated."_

It burns him that she understands. Such understanding can only come from experience.

.

* * *

.

After Xanxus comes Skull, and that is when Reborn's patience really is tested.

Careful deliberation comes with the knowledge that Hyacinth wouldn't appreciate his method of encouragement to the lackey and he resigns himself to _behaving._

As Hyacinth would say it, _Merlin damned, bloody annoying._

.

* * *

.

Skull creeps through the window and nearly gets blasted for his efforts.

Luckily, Hyacinth sees him in time and stops back the fire power of her spell.

"Skull!" she cries with a bit of worry. "I really am sorry, but you did surprise me."

Skull groans through the headache and Reborn grins with delight at the side. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to do anything.

.

* * *

.

Five minutes later, Hyacinth is still asking.

"Are you sure you're alright, Skull?" she asks.

A hint of temper spikes through Skull's normally placid face. "No, really. I'm fine."

Hyacinth gets distracted by an introduction of another topic and Skull relaxes against the sofa as she starts to ramble on a topic, only to stiffen up when he feels Reborn's stare at the back of his neck.

Oblivious, Hyacinth continuous talking.

.

* * *

.

"You're relatives?" he asks, voice as high as it could get with his incredulity.

Hyacinth pouts. "Well, technically not," she concedes. "But if we really trace back the lineage, which I can do, with how stuffy and annoying my ancestors were, then I can say we are related."

The disbelief doesn't fade from his face. "How'd you figure that out?"

He regrets his question when Hyacinth conjures a really long piece of parchment, ignoring the lackey's choke of shock, and then starts to draw the lines of ancestry with just her wand.

It's a long and ardrous process that he dearly wishes to sleep through, but he asked for it anyway.

Skull wilts at the corner when Reborn directs a tendril of KI at him, just to relieve stress.

.

* * *

.

What really takes the cake, however, is when _Byakuran_ drops by.

Reborn doesn't hesitate to arm himself, gun dropping to his hand, its weight familiar and comforting.

Blood stains be damned, Hyacinth had cleaning spells anyway.

"Mercy~" the albino cries, but he is still annoyingly smiling. "I just wanted to say hello. My Yuni wanted to say hi as well~"

And there it is, the thirteen year old clinging to Byakuran's back like a monkey, smiling sheepishly at Reborn when she sees his temper.

Before he could herd them out, Hyacinth comes out of the shower, hair wet and dripping as she tried to wrestle it to obedience.

Then she notices her guests and blinks.

"Oh!" she says, a happy smile gracing her face. "Are you another one of Reborn's friends? Come in! I think my apple pie just cooled. You timed it perfectly."

She notices Reborn's gun and goes still, looking at each of them in the eye with the kind of stare that can look into a person's soul.

"Hmm, how interesting," she murmurs, breaking her stare. "I suppose we can sate your curiosity." She turns to her lover. "Come love, you can threaten to shoot them later."

Byakuran exchanges glances with Yuni before dropping fully into her apartment. The smirk Reborn had gotten at her statement was not a comforting one.

.


	24. Singular

Hyacinth doesn't really notice that her albino guest is staring at her with unnerving intensity.

She really doesn't, because she's too busy staring back at him too. She's never really seen an albino before, and she knows he is one and it's not just a dye-job, or a potion. There's not one lick of magic in him and even his _eyebrows_ are white.

Most people dying their hair forget their eyebrows.

.

* * *

.

"Are you having a staring contest?" Reborn asks eventually, deep baritone breaking into whatever haze had fallen her.

Hyacinth blinks several times and then smiles at him. He sounded jealous.

"No need to be jealous, love," she tells him quietly while Byakuran shakes his head like a dog trying to get rid of water in his ears. "You're more fascinating than he is."

He glowers at her. "I should be," he mutters.

She blushes at the implication and his eyebrows rise at that. He didn't even think to imply anything and the little minx's brain did.

.

* * *

.

"You are so strange," the albino manages when she serves them her apple pie with a side dish of homemade ice cream.

Yuni is strangely silent but that is explained by the smears of ice cream on her cheeks and the extra helping of ice cream on her pie.

"Why is that?" Reborn asks. His voice is still and calm, but a calm Reborn is one to be wary of. A still lake is, after all, prone to _hiding_ dangerous beasts.

Byakuran's purple eyes flick to his for a moment before he turns his attention back to Hyacinth.

"Among all the worlds that I know about, I have absolutely no memory of _her_ ," he said.

.

* * *

.

One of Reborn's life policies is to ignore something that bothers him and if all else fails, shoot it.

Another one of his policies is to always be honest with himself. It doesn't do to lie, after all.

It may seem contradictory, but Reborn applied that very well to his way of life. This gives a glimpse to the kind of man Reborn really is, and how he lived his life.

.

* * *

.

Reborn narrows his eyes and Byakuran knows him well enough to raise his hands innocently.

"I have no idea why," Byakuran says and if it had been someone else, it would have been called pleading.

Hyacinth herself is unbothered. "Oh, love. Don't worry so much," she says. "I like to think that I am unique, born as brilliantly different from all the others."

Byakuran gives her an incredulous look. Reborn relishes that, if only for a moment. The memories he had received from his future self had featured Byakuran showing a short range of emotions. He seemed to be stuck on sadistic glee, melancholy and a bit of childish pleasure.

Hyacinth pauses, a finger on her chin. "Though…If you can see into all the other worlds, you might want to envision me as a boy. My father did an old Black Ritual, asking for a girl because my mother wanted one. All first-born Potters are men…usually."

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth laughs at the look on his face and shares a conversation with Reborn using just a glance.

Byakuran thinks that this must be what surprise feels like.

He had never met someone who managed to make him feel such, aside from Tsunayoshi and dear darling Yuni.

The dark hitman is beside her, glowering at him and making Byakuran feel little chills.

He doesn't usually feel that either.

What a very _interesting_ couple.

.

* * *

.

"I do have memories of a male Potter," Byakuran allows. "And he does have the same green eyes."

She looks a bit happier at that information. "Well, you see what I mean? It must be perfectly lovely to be a boy, but I must admit to be happier being a girl."

Reborn smirks. "And it is my pleasure that you have been born a girl," he says.

Yuni giggles and Hyacinth flushes red.

"Do you have to do that, Reborn?" Byakuran complains. "My poor delicate ears!"

Reborn doesn't say anything to that, aside from muttering something under his breath that sounds like, " _Delicate, indeed!_ "

.

* * *

.

Yuni eventually talks, drawing attention. She is perfectly solemn and it is an unnerving thing to see in a thirteen year old girl. With her large, expressive eyes, she looks to be the modern version of Snow White.

"You ought to move her closer to Italia," she is saying. "Waves are occurring and Tsuna-san is doing his best, but he cannot watch over everybody, especially those as far away as you."

Reborn is angry. Hyacinth tries not to shrink. She really doesn't like it when tempers are high.

"Not acceptable," he is growling. "She can manage herself, but it only takes one good sniper and she will be dead."

Yuni looks tired. "If you must stay here, she has to withdraw from her classes. You cannot allow a public record of her existence."

She has a point. The University is the only record of Hyacinth's muggle existence. But being ordered this way always makes her blood boil. Being asked to hide, being asked to delete herself, to make herself unimportant and different.

She is not a pawn and she is not expendable.

Hyacinth leaves the table at the excuse of washing the dishes.

.

* * *

.

Whatever innate gift makes them guess at her hidden ill-temper is a blessing because Hyacinth is breaking a few dishes as she washes them, trying to cool her temper.

Reborn gently but firmly takes her hands away from the running water, brushing softly against the small nicks and cuts at her palms from the shards.

"They've already left, love," he mutters. "Don't hurt yourself, please."

She trembles. She did not know she is trembling until he holds her and he is a steady, lovely anchor against her. She rests her head against his chest and inhales the scent of coffee and an expensive perfume from Italy. He does not smell yet of gunpowder, he has not yet used his gun for the moment.

"I don't like being ordered," she tells him. "Especially when it is said that way, like I have no other option."

He does not say anything to that because what can he say, really? She is damaged, he knows, but he did not know it is to this extent.

"We will move when we feel like it," Reborn says instead. "Do not feel the need to drop your classes either.

She loves him for saying, 'we'.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth receives nightmares after that of Dumbledore telling her to stay at the Dursleys. She dreams of endless letters from faceless friends to 'keep her head down' and 'not attract attention'.

She wakes up panting and sweaty, trembling with suppressed anger.

Reborn is lovely and distracts her with his tongue.

.


	25. Exams

Nothing really changes.

Life goes on and then her final exams come to pass. Hyacinth passes out from studying and then wakes up to find herself cocooned with blankets and a worried Reborn hovering anxiously by her bedside.

Hyacinth reassures him and then goes back to studying.

Reborn conspires with Mippy to put her to bed at reasonable hours and getting her to eat.

He's lucky she loves him or she would have eviscerated him. Having Mippy casting spells on her desk to make it untouchable is hitting below the belt.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth doesn't know what deal Reborn had struck with Tsuna but he is around more often.

While Tsuna isn't technically Reborn's boss, Reborn still holds the position of advisor and that is an official job.

He's sticking around often and she is grateful. She suspects that he is the only reason that she is still eating and he is also going over her notes when she is unconscious, making diagrams and simplifying it.

Home tutor, indeed!

.

* * *

.

The day of the exams dawns, and Hyacinth is dithering, forcing down breakfast and so nervous that she nearly upsets her tea.

Reborn just gets her coffee and surprisingly, it soothes her nerves.

He looks smug and she itches to smack him.

He kisses her instead and she is having a different kind of distraction.

Hyacinth is nearly late and Reborn laughs.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is lucky that she dropped her two subjects. She feels tired, not outright zombiefied like some students.

She only has time to bite into her sandwich when her senses tingle. These senses had lain dormant for nearly two years, the end of the war making it nearly obsolete.

That didn't meant it is no longer there.

Without blinking an eye, she drops into a crouch just as a spell strikes the stone bench that she was sitting on.

Instinct made her fire back, her accuracy honed by Reborn's tutelage about guns and aiming.

The two wizards held no chance. They dropped like rocks, their cloaks folding with them. She wrenched the masks from them and saw familiar faces. With a growl, she bound them and sent them with a portkey to the Ministry of Magic, to Hermione's office along with a note.

It is fast and efficient, and very lucky that no other student was in the gardens.

Hyacinth sits down and curses when she finds that she doesn't have the time to eat her lunch anymore.

.

* * *

.

It gives her a bad mood for the rest of the day and the remaining two tests are annihilated with a vengeance. Ron did always say that the angrier she was, the faster she worked on homework.

Not that it wasn't amusing. If she was in the right mood, she would have laughed at the annoyed looks here classmates were sending her. Apparently, vicious cursing was distracting during tests.

Ah, she had forgotten her old methods for letting off steam.

.

* * *

.

A group of her friends were in her apartment when she returned that evening, along with two Aurors blindfolded. Reborn sat to one side, ignoring everyone and decimating her secret stash of cookies.

"Reborn!" are the first words out of Hyacinth's mouth instead of a greeting. "How did you find that?"

He gives her a smug look. "I'm the World's Greatest Hitman," he says arrogantly.

It didn't even answer the question!

She ignores him for the moment and she focuses on why wizards were suddenly in her apartment.

"Not that I don't appreciate the visit," she starts. "But why are you here?"

Hermione looks at her funny. "Err, Haya? Hello? You sent to wizards to my office with just a very cryptic note about them attacking you. I brought the Aurors to get your official statement and then the rest heard and wanted to see for themselves that you're unharmed."

Hyacinth is very conscious of the sharp interest the hitman is giving their conversation. She is suddenly very glad that the attack happened in her school.

If Reborn had gotten his hands on them, he would have done something worse than stunning and capturing them.

.

* * *

.

The Aurors take to being blindfolded gamely and very easily, as though they had trained for it…which they probably did.

They take her statement via dicta-quills and then acquiescently allow themselves to be sent back to the Ministry via side-along apparition.

Hyacinth blinks at the proceedings and then gives her friends a serious look. "What did you guys give them?" she demands. "They were like Imperio'd."

Thankfully, no one looks guilty. However, there are smirks being passed around. "Those were one of Colin's recruits," Ron explains, a tinge of exasperation on his voice giving her a bit of hope that this wasn't going to be a ridiculous explanation. "The Defeater-of-Voldemort fanclub."

Hyacinth is crushed. It is a ridiculous explanation.

.

* * *

.

Once the wizards leave, with some promises of owling and flooing, Reborn unfolds himself from his chair and stalks over to her, running gentle hands over her face and her shoulders, ascertaining for himself that she is fine.

Hyacinth lets him, calming herself down and releasing the last vestiges of adrenaline into the air as she inhaled Reborn's scent.

Wait…there is the hint of gunpowder.

She blinks up at him and scowls. "You've been using your gun," she states. "Where have you been shooting?"

He rests his forehead on hers, looking into her eyes. "Sorry, _amante_. Work called me for a bit. Don't worry, I am not injured."

Hyacinth thinks that perhaps she should ban that phrase, 'don't worry.' It seems to be counter-productive thing since she worries even more.

She worries about him, especially when she's not at home to bandage him when he comes back.

Self-bandaging is difficult and almost always sloppy, after all.

.

* * *

.

The results of the final exams come in the mail and Hyacinth is so giddy that she works in the kitchen, singing at the top of her lungs.

She churns out pastries and pies until Reborn comes through the door, looking wide-eyed at the table and finally laughing, holding her as though to contain her giddiness.

"I passed!" she cries. "Top 2! Oh, my love! I am so happy."

He laughs with her, twirling her around effortlessly and then setting her down.

"So you are graduating?" he asks. There is the word ' _finally_ ' in his voice. She grins at him.

"Yes. And you are coming with me to the after party," she says impishly.

He is torn between pleasure and horror. Graduation means no more studying. Parties means more shopping.

.


	26. Appropriate

There's something to be said for Reborn's patience.

He had patience for small children, for waiting in his chair in the kitchen for the cookies to come out of the oven. He had patience for lining in the grocery store for Hyacinth's shopping list and for cleaning his dismantled gun piece by piece.

He didn't have the patience for outright stupidity and he had absolutely no time to waste on things that did not concern him, or did not interest him in any way.

Hyacinth loves him for being honest. Reborn, at least, told her what he didn't like to do and what he could do.

.

* * *

.

"You have a speech?" Reborn asks, slightly incredulous.

She scowls at him. "It's not that ridiculous. Stop looking at me like that."

He lowers his raised brows and settles smirking. "Okay, a speech. Are you writing it?"

Hyacinth fidgets. "Well, I am writing it. It's for the Arts Department. Apparently, I am one of the more popular graduates there, though I wonder how that happened. You are attending my graduation, right?"

Reborn scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. I wouldn't miss it for anything."

She beams at him.

.

* * *

.

Despite the fact that Reborn _hated_ crowds, he braves shopping to find an appropriate graduation gift.

Some of the salesmen remember him, what with Hyacinth dragging him through the aisles to look for a cocktail dress. They had given him discreet looks of envy when she wore several dresses at his prompting.

Reborn ignores all of them and roams, letting his mind wander and just waiting for _something_ to catch his eye. He is usually methodical but something told him that Hyacinth's gift needed impulse. An impulsively bought gift for an impulsive woman.

A brochure catches his attention and he stills. He had finally found it.

He smiles.

.

* * *

.

Mippy the House-elf answers to him, even if he did not have a single drop of magic in his blood. She likes him for being courteous and polite, just like Hyacinth.

"What is sirs be needing?" she asks, hands twisting her tea towel.

"I need you to verify something," Reborn says. "What has your mistress told you would happen after graduation?"

The House-elf answers, a bit confused but answering nonetheless. "Mistress isn't says to Mippy. Mippy just knows that Mistress will be following Mister Reborn sirs. Mippy be packing some boxes already."

Wow, wasn't that something? A creature that just _knew_ what the master needed, even if she hadn't spoken. Reborn had known about Mippy but he hadn't known to _what extent_ the House-elf served Hyacinth.

"I have a gift for Hyacinth," he told her. "Can you help me?"

The House-elf squeaked and clapped her hands happily.

.

* * *

.

In the end, the graduation gift morphed into something quite beautiful.

It keeps him a bit busy that he has no time to hear Hyacinth practicing her speech, just as she requested. He pouts because he should have a bit of inkling as to what his lover will be saying on the stage.

"Where will you be?" she asks.

"I'll be right in the middle," he says. "Listening to you. So if you do screw up, I'll have years of blackmail."

She scowls at him and threatens to disembowel the coffee bags.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is a popular student, despite not being the best.

Her subject matters are interesting, always holding a bit of the magical, even if it is just a picture of a mountain. It attracts people, her sketches and artworks.

Reborn just shakes his head. _If only they knew_ , he thinks.

She gets awarded a medal for it and is given a microphone to make a speech. She holds it gingerly, like it would explode in her face.

"There's a lot of fictional work in the world these days that focus on magic," she starts, eyes flitting over the crowd, looking for Reborn. "And it's all about other worlds and strange things. But it's not all about other worlds you know. Art is finding the magic in ordinary things and bringing them out for others to see as well."

Her green eyes finally settle on him and she relaxes. "Art is sharing to others how you see the world. Because magic is everywhere, not just in other worlds."

Reborn's shoulders are shaking with laughter. To borrow the phrase – _how bloody ironic_ . Hyacinth is lucky her wizard friends couldn't attend or else she'd get a talking to about breaking their secrecy.

.

* * *

.

"You little minx," is what comes out of his mouth instead of a congratulations. "You have ridiculous luck. None of your friends are here."

She grins at him impishly. "Well, this insane amount of luck apparently runs in the family."

He rolls his eyes and finally accepts the embrace she gives him. A couple of other graduates whistle at them.

"Congratulations for finally leaving behind formal education," he says. She smacks him and he laughs.

.

* * *

.

He hands the gift to her, acting nonchalant but staring at the minute expressions on her face.

Hyacinth's face morphs into a smile. "This is brilliant! How did you know?" she asks.

The collection of loose papers is clipped by silver ring. It shows a comprehensive detail on houses and their locations, noting pros and cons. There are also helpful notes on the margin, written by a House-elf and saying which house was nice and which house wasn't.

"I asked the house-elf," he answers, trying not to show his embarrassment. So what if he was thorough?

"It's like you read my mind!" she exclaims, handing him a drawing book that he didn't see on her person earlier.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one to give you a gift?" he asks as he idly draws her away from the crowd.

Hyacinth is too busy leafing through the papers to answer him.

.

* * *

.

Walking is a better mode of transportation than apparition.

It is also an interesting thing to lead a person reading so she wouldn't walk into lamp posts and walls.

Reborn settles her on a chair outside of a café and she finally blinks, looking around with bemusement.

"I need coffee," he tells her. "You woke me up rather early."

"I'd like some tea, please."

Reborn froze, wondering what it was that made his hair stand. Then he expanded his senses and pushed Hyacinth to the ground.

"Wha-?" she exclaims, but he didn't answer her. The chair that bore her had two bullet holes.

Silent, not even the sound of a gunshot.

A hitman.

.


	27. Acclimation

It took a certain amount of skill and cunning to be able to hold the title of the World's Greatest Hitman.

There were also different ways of killing that people employed, as there different ways of thinking too. Reborn applied charm, and an unparalleled skill in using a gun. The Math that he had majored in also helped, seeing as it allowed him to see weak points in building structures and to break a boulder with one accurate shot.

This hitman was new and silent, with a very good aim.

Luckily, Reborn had tried going against Colonnello once and he knew how a sniper thought. Also, there is a reason why he had been included in the I Prescelti Sette.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth recovers her wits and her magic responds accordingly.

With a tiny flare, a small shield shimmers over her and Reborn, easing the hitmans worry a little.

Reborn calculates angles and wind resistance in his mind, and finally finds the snipers spot. Irritatingly, there is not glint of a scope.

He doesn't hesitate though and aims, firing back with deadly accuracy and speed, the bullet coated with a light sheen of sun flames.

.

* * *

.

Nothing really goes to plan the first time around.

Hitman have very little life expectancy, unless they have good enough skills and foresight. Luck really has nothing to do with it.

If plan A doesn't work, the target has already been warned and then you have to use plan's B to Z.

.

* * *

.

A knife is parried by a sword suddenly appearing in Hyacinth's hand.

Reborn doesn't let this faze him, though he is tempted to goggle at the gaudy sword. Handguns have the advantage of being capable of being used against knives and he applies that knowledge.

Hyacinth is very capable and uses the reach of her sword to her advantage. Reborn should stop getting amazed by his lover. She had enough ammunition against him.

The knife sequence falters and two more knives come into play.

His eyes narrow. This is ridiculous and stupid.

.

* * *

.

Two people need experience working together in order to move seamlessly. Some people are just capable of working together with how well they know the other person.

Reborn and Hyacinth belong to the latter and, when Reborn catches her eye, she gives a swift nod as she ducks low and he aims high.

A bit of magic doesn't go amiss and the sniper stumbles, making things easier for the both of them.

.

* * *

.

Once the idiot is properly trussed up like a chicken, Reborn allows his rage to double over and slip past its tightly controlled leash.

Hyacinth doesn't have hysterics – thank the First – she just sheathes the sword _into her handbag_ and frowns at the man, kicking him in the leg and watching him sweat with terror.

"Reborn, he looks terrified," she remarks.

There is dark satisfaction curling in Reborns stomach. "He should be," he growls out. "Going after you."

She pats him on the arm to get his attention, though she doesn't let her hand linger. He is in a temper and touching an irritated Reborn is just asking for trouble.

"No, love. Think on it! If he knows that you are associated with his target, shouldn't he be resigned instead of terrified?" she asks.

Hyacinth has a point, though a vicious part of him says that all humans faced with death are terrified.

(The word _herbivores_ drifts through his brain and he buries that before it can manifest.)

.

* * *

.

The witless assassin is dropped in the nearest Vongola headquarters and that is probably the only time Reborn won't complain about apparition.

The people who witness drop whatever their holding and _stare_.

Hyacinth wants to say hello to some of the more interesting and colorful people, but Reborn pulls at her hand insistently and she rolls her eyes and apparates them back to the apartment, muttering a bit about overprotective bastards.

Immediately, she is pulled to the bedroom and this time, she goes along without complaint.

.

* * *

.

Time doesn't stand still for anyone.

It's unforgiving and relentlessly fast, but Hyacinth doesn't mind.

She packs her belongings with the help of an eager House-elf, letting out a grin at how bloody _overwhelmingly motherhen-ish_ Reborn became after the sniper.

He checks her food for poison, doesn't allow her to open windows, tests the water in her shower for its PH levels before allowing her to use it, and then smothers her with kisses when she starts to find it hilarious.

It doesn't help that Mippy is firmly with Reborn in the plot that wraps her in bubble-wrap and cotton.

"Both of you are ridiculous," she remarks firmly. "Reborn, what did Tsuna say about the sniper?"

He scowls without fail at the mention of the sniper. "That idiot," he growls. "Lost some files in the CEDEF. Some of them were yours. Of course they'd try to take you out. They thought you were undercover."

_Wait, what?!_

"What?" she asks, incredulous.

He smirks at her. "Don't be like that, _amante_. With a code-name like she-demon, written in the handwriting of the head of the organization itself, you've got to admit your popularity."

"Notoriety, more like," she mutters under her breath as she taps the crate shut with a swish of her wand.

Reborn does calm down, eventually.

It takes a lot of trial and experimentation and when Hyacinth finally manages to go to the grocery store without Reborn tailing behind her, she counts it as a victory.

.

* * *

.

She chooses a house with a large lawn and a lot of trees. The backyard has an overgrown vegetable plot that makes her fingers itch to weed. It has two stories and a lot of windows that makes Reborn's shoulders stiffen with dislike.

But it has rooms. A lot of rooms and a lot of possibilities for decorating. And a large, brilliant kitchen that gave her other culinary possibilities that previously wasn't possible with the small kitchen in her old apartment.

Mippy is ecstatic at the large house to clean and nearly frenzied at the large lawn to keep pristine.

"It's cute," Reborn drawls.

She swats him and isn't really angry, knowing full well that he was smiling too, looking at the small structure she had placed a few meters inside the dense groups of trees. It was a place to practice shooting, and to keep in shape with a few modified exercises for the terrain.

The drawing book she had given him had held some drawings, with the help of a student in the architecture course, about the kind of shooting range he wanted. That magic could easily transplant a forest was something else entirely.

"It's our home," she whispers.

His hand is warm around hers and she relaxes.

**.**


	28. Unpacking

There is a bird perched on her windowsill, an ordinary barn owl with piercing amber eyes.

Hyacinth nearly jumps out of her skin, very startled at the birds' sudden appearance.

Reborn, wearing an old shirt and ratty pants (which looked sinfully good on him, the annoying bastard with good genes. He'd look good in a burlap sack.) takes one look at the owl and sighs.

" _Amante_ ," he says. "Attend to that. Have you placed the wards for mails yet?"

It is also a bit unnerving that Reborn knew as much about warding as Hermione after he just spent one afternoon with her books.

"I'll do that this afternoon," she answers. "We have to finish at least one bedroom, love. I don't like sleeping in camping bags."

.

* * *

.

Two more birds find their way to her in the remaining course of the morning, and Reborn's temper shimmers.

Owl-mail rarely finds their way to her, only after Mippy had done a check on them. To have them go to her directly irritates his hitman sensibilities.

"Do it, or I'll ask the house-elf to do it," he tells her.

Temper flashes across Hyacinth's eyes with his imperious tone and she holds it back with practice and Occlumency.

"Don't tell me what to do," she mutters under her breath.

.

* * *

.

By the time she could find a moment to place wards, her wand is slashing angrily in the air and it reacts with her magic, releasing a power so strong that it ripples and is seen as a translucent curtain.

If Hermione had been there, she would have stopped it with a promise of tea or hot cocoa. Wards powered by emotions always had unpredictable effects on the wards effects.

Hyacinth notes this in a distant part of her brain, but she needed to vent. Broken china would have been preferable but she knows that Mippy hadn't yet gotten to that part of the unpacking.

She releases a breath and goes to the kitchen.

.

* * *

.

Wards are supposed to be subtle, gentle yet strong. Terrifying yet soothing.

Wards powered by emotion isn't stable. It usually does something terrible to the surroundings to compensate for its overwhelming power.

These type of wards should be taken down once erected.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth goes through three mugs of cocoa before a worried Mippy pops beside her, tugging on her skirt and pulling her towards the window.

She sees the slowly browning grass and rushes outside to rectify her mistake.

The build-up of magic rebounds in her hand and it is strong enough to break the skin. Hyacinth holds back her cry of pain and drops her wand.

"Mistress!" Mippy cries.

Panting a bit, Hyacinth shakily picks up her wand and erects another ward, this time powered by clean magic. It ripples out in clear waves and vanishes into an invisible barrier, as it normally should be.

.

* * *

.

That night, they have an argument.

It is nothing serious, nothing too brutal, yet this is the first time they had ever had an argument.

For every other couple, this would be a pivotal moment for their relationship. For both of them, it is a test of how well they knew each other, enough to forgive the unintentional barbs thrown in every direction, ripping open old wounds and dashing salt on festering ones.

Hyacinth is almost driven to use her magic, but she knows that if she uses her magic, she is allowing Reborn to use his skills on her, which would be redundant because he is a _hitman_.

There is nowhere for the seething anger to go and they go to bed unhappy.

.

* * *

.

Things come to a head when Hyacinth drops her brush consecutively because of her backlash injury.

Reborn snarls at her and she snarls back.

Mippy takes one look at the both of them and looks so frustrated that sparks are flying from her thin, spindly fingers.

She doesn't know who started it but she knows that one moment, Reborn is slamming her against a wall and the next she is kissing him and trying not to rip his clothes too much. Reborn doesn't care and rips her shirt anyway.

Mippy rolls her eyes and sighs in the way that signifies her as the most put-upon house-elf in the whole world.

.

* * *

.

Once things calm down and they can breathe, Hyacinth tries to solve why both of them blew up like that to avoid a repetitive argument.

Usually, their schedules are synchronized and they knew each other well enough to avoid an argument.

So, why…?

"We've never worked together for a long time, have we?" Reborn drawls out, laid out and the picture of a satisfied cat.

If Hyacinth wasn't too busy ruminating over that, she would have been tempted to smack him just to remove the look on his face.

"Well," she starts. "You've taken care of me before tests and after tests, I've had to bandage you more times than is good for my sanity but…both of us has never really needed each other at the same time, and to such extremes."

It isn't exactly right, since being in each other's presence is enough to calm both of them down. But their argument had sparked because they were leeching off each other's restless energy.

Reborn understands anyway, even if the way she said it was funny.

.

* * *

.

They finish decorating without further incident, which is a relief.

On one hand, Hyacinth can't enter the dining room without blushing.

The last count is seventeen guest bedrooms, one master bedroom, one kitchen, one dining room, one art room, one study for Reborn, a pantry and one vegetable and herb garden.

Just in time too, for the first mail of a possible houseguest and a text message for Reborn about job.

.

* * *

.

"Take care," she tells him as she arranges the jacket around him. "It's not the ideal time, since Molly and the others have been wanting to meet you ever since George told them."

He pats her on the shoulders and she lets go, their signal to stop the silly, mushy stuff.

"I'll tell the others to stay away from here for a while, if you're having guests," he says. "I don't think having Mafiosi and wizards in one place is good for the house."

She laughs, because he really has a point.

**.**


	29. OMAKE

**Luna meeting Reborn**

It is a bit of a shock, coming back to his lover's apartment to find somebody there, on the kitchen table, drinking tea while humming a really demented melody, sketching something on a notebook.

Hyacinth isn't there, having warned him ahead of time that she would be going back to Britain to deal with her affairs.

However, she had given him a key - not that he would need it - in case he needed a place to crash.

To find a strange woman who he hadn't met yet, is annoying. His policy is usually shoot first, ask questions later. That hadn't failed him yet since people tended to do the same to him.

But this is Hyacinth's home. And this is a possible friend.

"Who are you?" he demands instead.

The blonde woman gives him an absent smile that makes him think that maybe she's not all there. "Oh, hello," she says softly. She's not at all affected by the aura he is projecting. "You seem to be surrounded by Heliopaths."

A nerve ticks in his jaw in his effort in holding back a scathing retort. "Heliopaths aside, who are you?"

She finally looks up properly from her drawing and gives him the full force of her attention. The impact is like looking into Yuni's eyes, except this gives him a sense of vertigo.

"I'm the moon. You can call me Luna," she says. "You have very lovely sideburns. However did you make them go that way?"

The last two sentences just solidified it. This woman is his lovers friend. He knew nobody else who could say that to him with a straight face aside from her.

"My name is Reborn," he says instead. He gives her a look that asks, _what are you doing here?_

She is unfazed by it. Completely oblivious.

"That's a lovely name," she responds. "Do you know how to make tea?"

Reborn gives up - not that he would ever let anyone know. This strange creature was immune to intimidation.

Hyacinth comes back to find Luna and Reborn having tea. Her delight more than makes up for the frustration of meeting Luna Lovegood.

**.**

* * *

**.**

**The she-demon and her frying pan (or an AU for chapter 27)**

_Oh,_ the sniper thinks dazedly. His mind is wandering and his eyes are unfocused with the concussion he is having. _This is why she is called a she-demon._

It is supposed to be a simple assassination, the target taken down with one shot and the mess dealt with by the local police.

He didn't recon on _Reborn_ beside her, _holding her hand_ and pushing her down the moment the bullets left the nozzle.

He goes for close contact because he's always been a bit better with knives than guns anyway and he goes in for the kill, barely escaping the smattering hail of bullets that Reborn sends to his position. (By St. Marco, he didn't even show any visible sign of his gun, how did the hitman know?)

And then the woman went for her handbag and he didn't know why he felt his entire body seize up in fear, sweat pouring from his forehead and stinging his eyes. Reborn, who had been aiming his gun at him, suddenly looks worried, (and isn't that something?) when even under gun fire, Reborn is as cool as a cucumber. The very air feels heavy and the pavement cracks under the pressure.

He almost laughs when she produces a frying pan but that quickly turns to fear when she swings it efficiently and it connects with his ribs.

He is winded and gasping and afterwards, all he remembers is being in so much pain that he can't even breathe.

 _So this is the she-demon_ , he wonders and he knows that it is a very deserving codename. In the privacy of his mind, he curses his misinformed boss to the nine hells.

If he concentrates hard enough, he can distinctly hear whimpering. Strangely enough, it sounds like that head CEDEF bastard.

**.**

* * *

**.**

**Xanxus and firewhisky**

When Squalo had heard about a specific kind of wine that could possibly manage to make the Boss drunk, Squalo prayed.

He isn't the religious sort, and he doesn't really care for prayer, but this time prays that someone can do something to break that bottle before that special liquid gets to the headquarters.

If Boss can dole out damage without alcohol impeding him, he doesn't want to imagine what would happen to the whole country if Boss does manage to get drunk. Probably sink it into the sea.

Predictably, because Fate hates him and Squalo doesn't have _that_ kind of luck, the bottles of firewhisky is crated carefully into the Boss's rooms and Xanxus doesn't waste his time opening two. _Two!_

Didn't that woman say that drinking too fast could burn the stomach lining?

Squalo wants to scream and he settles for demolishing one training room. He wants plausible deniability.

He comes back an hour later to find all the Varia Officers hanging outside the Boss's rooms, signs of worry on all their faces.

"What the hell are you all doing, scum?" he cries out, voice a bit softer so as not to drift into Xanxus's rooms.

Levi oodles closer. "The Boss is too quiet!" he whispers. "That suspicious wine must have been poisoned."

Mammon knees him in the stomach. "Idiot! The guards checked it for poison. None of the scans came up positive."

Nobody mentions that it could be possible that there is a different sort of poison that none of the scans could pick out.

While the rest of the Officers bicker behind him, Squalo calls up his balls to open the door. He had to before Bel starts using his knives and Mammon could retaliate with some illusions.

"Boss?" he says softly.

A hand suddenly pulls him inside the _complete darkness_ of the room and he tries not to squirm because he can recognize his Boss's hand, as well as his scent.

Wait, what? _Scent_ …

He blinks up at the man, eyes adjusting in the gloom. He processes this and then his brain crashes like a computer experiencing technical error.

He is being used like a teddy bear.

"Boss?" he repeats tentatively.

Xanxus smacks him on the shoulder, making him freeze again. It is one thing to argue with Boss from a distance and safely able to call Flames, it's another thing to argue with the Boss when he has you collared and very close to his guns.

"Shitty-shark, don't move too much," he grumbles.

And then he proceeds to hum a completely nonsensical song that makes the hair on Squalo's neck stand up. Xanxus is singing a lullaby, with altered lyrics to include blood, death and misplaced intestines.

Squalo wants to use his sword to pry himself away, but it seems unfair to use that against his boss when he truly is intoxicated.

This time around that is.

…..!

Oh hell, hadn't he sparred with the man once when he had consumed an entire barrel?

Damn his conscience.

His Boss really is drunk because if he was sober, he'd rather shoot himself than snuggle with Squalo.

.

* * *

.

**Nono and Hyacinth: The Unholy Alliance**

Being a retired mafia boss, it stood to reason that Nono knew some things that other people would find questionable.

Like what sort of drug mixture is used to enhance the potency of alcohol.

"Really?" Hyacinth says, eyes sparkling and alight with mischief. "Can that work with punch bowls?"

Gamauche III, Nono's Lightning Guardian, was an evil, _evil_ ass. He answers for his boss, saying, "Well, the degree of alcohol in one punch bowl is nearly negligible. If you use that mixture, it will raise alcoholic intensity by 50 percent!"

Rooting through her handbag and having one of the page boys find a beaker, both pranksters immediately set to work.

"This is brilliant," she cackles.

"And the best thing is," Nono whispers. "No one ever suspects the old cripple in a wheel chair."

They dissolve into laughter and don't really notice the rest of the Guardians inching away discreetly.

.

* * *

.

**Basil's Trauma**

None of the CEDEF notice it at first.

It's normal to have a bit of reaction at a failed mission, and a spying mission to Reborn of all people. So there must have been some repercussions.

Then, Basil-sama starts to flinch violently when faced with a ladle. The wait-staff learn to serve soup a few feet away from him and to discreetly slide the bowl over.

After, he takes one look at the kitchen and faints, froth coming from his mouth.

So he is taken to therapy and nobody forgets the first words out of his mouth, his eyes manically large.

"It's the she-demon! She's haunting me," he whines. "I can't get her out of my head. I see frying pans everywhere."

They all conclude that there must have been trauma at the scene, probably at a kitchen and one of the pans contributing to his failure.

Partly true, but completely false too.

Basil still tries to tell them that Hyacinth is the reincarnated wife of Satan.

Nobody believes him because she is such a gentle and kind woman who invited them to tea before Reborn noticed them and kicked them out of the apartment.

.

* * *

.

**The Inevitable Pet infestation**

As it happens when there are magical wards installed, animals are drawn for the safety and protection that the magic exudes.

The first few times were small animals with small injuries. Easily healed and easily forgotten, except that they linger outside, cultivating the magically implanted forest.

The next ones are larger, some deer and a few small species of foxes. Reborn scratches his head and chalks it up to wizardly weirdness. Hyacinth coos over their lovely fur and their thick pelts. Those animals stay too.

It is when the magical side of the equation starts to happen that Reborn wants to put his foot down. A hippogriff somehow gets into the forest without being detected by the non-magical folk, a colony of bowtruckles almost jump on Reborn when he shot a tree by accident, and there are the garden gnomes.

Each and every time Reborn wants to ship them out, Hyacinth turns to look at him with a creased eyebrow, a small worried pout and a heartfelt, "Can we please keep them, love?"

Everything else he can deal with, just not the gnomes. They are ruining his favorite spot in the house to doze in, the garden.

But somehow, he just can't bring himself to shoot one.

.

* * *

.

**Byakuran, Tea and Other Worlds**

"So, if I was born a boy," Hyacinth starts, looking very curious. "What would have been my name?"

"Harry. Harry Potter," Byakuran answers promptly. "What a terribly boring name."

Reborn ignores that in favor of chewing over the newest tidbit. "Consistent in all the worlds?"

Byakuran gives him a look. "It's very rare for one person to have different names. Though it does happen. Her parents were consistent in that, at least."

"Harry," Hyacinth mutters, feeling a tingle of weirdness slither down her spine at the name. "That's grandfathers name, mum's father."

A wicked, _wicked_ grin spreads over Byakuran's face. "Do you like to know how it would have been if you were born a boy?"

It was like Pandora's Box. Something you were better off not knowing but it would eat away at your curiosity until you opened it anyway.

"Well?" Reborn answers for the both of them.

"There's a Harry in one world that's a depressing, broody thing that doesn't have any friends. He's sorted into Ravenclaw." Hyacinth's eyebrows climb but the albino isn't finished yet. "There's one who's actually well-adjusted despite living with your relatives and he's sorted into Gryffindor, has two friends and saves the world."

"Was I actually sorted into all the Houses?" she asks incredulously, because Ravenclaw, for her, is a bit far-fetched.

"It's a possibility!" Byakuran exclaims, spreading his hands wide, pairing it with a creepy smile. "There was even a Harry sorted into Slytherin and becoming best friends with Draco!"

Hyacinth can't help the shudder that goes down her spine at that. Reformed or not, cousin or not, Draco Malfoy was still a prat and completely insufferable.

"Okay, that's enough," Reborn says, giving his lover a look of concern.

Byakuran just cackles.

.

* * *

.

**The Seemingly Unavoidable Pregnancy Question**

Hyacinth doesn't believe in accidents because coincidences had a funny way of being prophesied or manipulated in her life.

So when the box of tampons falls by her feet when she is restocking the medicine cabinet, she is immediately suspicious.

Automatically, she starts counting backwards.

Wait, _what_ …!

She counts again and starts sweating.

By the time Reborn finds her, she is on the bathroom floor and brewing a potion to check for pregnancy.

A drop of her blood and the potion turns black.

Reborn doesn't understand why she checks on the potion every other day. It took a week for the potion to mature and Hyacinth didn't trust the muggle ones.

When the potion finally matures, Hyacinth is jittery beyond bearing and Reborn is so concerned that he is _hovering_.

It turns a dark blue and she beams at the beaker, boneless with relief.

"What?" Reborn finally demands.

She smiles at him, if only to share the joy. "It was a pregnancy test," she explains. "I thought I was pregnant."

Reborn pales and wobbles a bit.

Hyacinth rolls her eyes. _Men_.

.

* * *

.

**A Basket of Cookies**

There is an innocent looking basket of cookies settled on Tsuna's table.

Not that it isn't unusual. Only that, the one who placed it there was Reborn, bearing the most annoyed look he had ever seen his tutor wear.

"R-Reborn? What's this?" Tsuna bravely asks.

The hitman gives him a dark look.

Really though, the question is justified. The cookie basket is covered with a pink cloth and tied with a red ribbon trimmed with gold.

"Hyacinth baked it for you," the hitman grouches, a nearly indistinct whine in his voice. "Apparently, it's not every day you get engaged."

Tsuna turns pink and unties the ribbon to sample one of the cookies.

Hayato dives in and tests one for him.

Both of them bite at the same time anyway and freeze, a look of complete rapture on their faces.

"Oh," Tsuna manages, a blush staining his cheeks. "That…that was…"

He's at loss for words. So is Hayato.

Takeshi tries one out of sheer curiosity, nearly gets his hand bitten in the process and then bites, a sigh of pleasure escaping him.

Predictably, it is the Rain Guardian that breaks the bliss induced silence.

"Oi, Reborn-san," Takeshi says with a laugh in his voice. "She didn't happen to be selling cookies when you met her, did she?"

.

* * *

.

**Arcobaleno Gossip**

"Reborn has a new lover," Fon says, dropping the bomb so casually that he might as well have said, "It's a lovely weather we're having," or "There's a sale on silk kimono's a couple of blocks down the road."

"What?" Colonnello says, the first to process the words. "What? I thought he didn't like to date anymore."

Fon gives that satisfied cat-smirk that reminds them all of his demonic grand-nephew. "You should see him, going all domesticated. He's even buying groceries."

Colonnello gets that unholy light in his eyes that makes Lal Mirch eye him warily. "I have to see that!" he cries.

.

"I almost got shot!" he exclaims, a look of severe irritation on his face. "Fon, you bastard, why didn't you tell me that he was being territorial?"

Fon gives him a look of surprise. "I thought you would realize that yourself. Forgive me, I didn't know your thought processes had slowed down."

Lal had to sit on Colonnello to prevent a brawl.

.

Viper visits next, because Colonnello's adulations about how good a shot she is, and how brilliant her pastries are, were getting on her nerves.

She comes back quiet but smiling, making everybody look at her with trepidation.

"Ano," Yuni starts tentatively. "Are you alright, Viper?"

Viper's smile widens. "Oh, I am absolutely fine."

They exchange glances and wonder what Reborn's new lover did to their illusionist.

.

Lal Mirch is deployed to Reborn's apartment with official orders and Yuni pats her on the arm when she drops by.

"Good luck," the thirteen year old says bracingly. Since it was official, there was a higher chance that Reborn would not shoot her.

Lal Mirch comes back with a contemplative look on her face and talks about the lover with caution.

"Dangerous, that one is," she tells them.

.

All of them look like they're readying themselves for war when Yuni told them that Hyacinth was attending the Ball.

"Well, it seems like we're getting to know her, one way or another," Verde mutters irritably. "I just hope she isn't a boring specimen.

.

* * *

.

**The Teacher Question**

Reborn's title was Home Tutor. Officially that is.

Hyacinth's in-official title, when she still taught the DA, was Sadistic, Insane Nutter with a Wand.

In a way, both of them are rather alike in methodologies.

.

[DA Classroom]

_Hyacinth teaching the class how to dodge by sending a barrage of color-changing charms, camouflaging some Stunners and Hexes._

_Everybody caught on once they saw the others dropping on the floor, or scratching at their boils._

_Everybody learned how to dodge in the end, but all of them had boils by then._

.

[Tsuna's Bedroom]

" _Baka-Tsuna, answer this sheet in five minutes or I'm eating all the cake," Reborn tells the boy._

_There is a rather loud "H-Hie!" and rushed scratching of a pencil._

_The sheet gets answered but the cake gets eaten anyway._

.

It's not that Hyacinth derives sadistic pleasure from the cries pain from her students; it's just that she believes in reinforcing it with a bit of a practical lesson…

It works, if you ask her students. That she's a Nutter, everybody is willing to agree on.

Reborn though. Reborn is the real deal. The true, and realized Sadistic Tutor.

.


	30. Introducing

The wards Hyacinth places around the house are not as extensive as the ones in the Potter Manor.

The more powerful the wards, the more difficult it is to allow technology to work. Hyacinth had to compromise. There was a reason why she had to move to an apartment anyway.

Reborn would never stand to be disconnected from the world. She knew him well enough.

.

* * *

.

The first guest arrives with a flash of fire and soot.

Mippy is there in a second, cleaning the dust and settling them in the dining room. It is the entire clan present, all the Weasleys and their respective partners.

Hyacinth knows that most of them hold very important positions and wonders how they managed it. Hermione herself deals with filtering through the reports of the Auror Department, and Ron dealt with the field work.

She says so and all of them exchange looks of exasperation.

"Haya," Hermione groans. "You've really been away for a while. It's the start of the summer break and the Ministry Ball is starting. Of course you don't know, it's just recently been announced. Tomorrow is the first Ball."

Hyacinth cocks her head to the side. "For what?" she asks.

"For surviving the war," Bill answers. "What else dear girl? And they were probably hoping to lure you back home too."

Any other time, Hyacinth would have been insulted and maybe a bit worried. After associating with Reborn, she just laughs.

"Oh, they can try," she murmurs, a wicked grin on her face.

.

* * *

.

They all explore the house and eventually settle back down to the kitchen, where there is a small table laden with food.

Hyacinth had been a little worried when Reborn left and channeled it to the kitchen.

"Still as good as ever, mate," Ron says around a mouthful. "Wonder why you didn't take up that Culinary course instead."

Hyacinth and all the other women exchange exasperated looks and laugh.

"Yes, Haya dear," Molly says, hair still a wonderful vibrant red. "You still cook as good as ever, surely a prize for whoever marries you."

Wait, _marriage?_

Hyacinth chokes on her casserole. "Wait, Molly – " she tries to interrupt.

Molly bulldozes over that. "And where is this young man that's shamelessly inviting himself in your house?"

George, the only one who really had a serious conversation with Reborn, looks to Hyacinth with some measure of alarm. Hyacinth doesn't know whether to laugh hysterically or cry.

"Mum," George interrupts when Hyacinth looks like she wants to melt into the chair. "Reborn's not exactly the kind of person you can say no to. He's like a force of nature."

Molly just gives him a look over her teacup. "Nonsense, George. A woman should be able to tell a man what she wants. Otherwise, that's just inviting trouble."

Traitorously, all the other wives are nodding too, even Hermione.

Hyacinth is just so done with the conversation.

.

* * *

.

What was even the point of protesting?

Molly Weasley was like a mother to an attention starved Hyacinth. Everybody knew that, especially Molly and Hyacinth.

There was absolutely no point in protesting.

Besides, she loved the old woman.

.

* * *

.

"Green is a very becoming color for you art studio, Haya dear," Molly comments, still toting around her teacup.

Hyacinth blushes. "Thanks Molly. Reborn suggested it."

Molly pauses over the threshold of the room, looks at her blushing face properly and then pats her on the head.

"It would do you a world of good to give that man a harder time, love," Molly mutters. "The charming ones don't really know what they have unless they work for it."

Hyacinth defends Reborn because they did work for their relationship. Every step of the way was an exercise in compromise and understanding. Their relationship was built on a solid foundation of patience.

"Molly," Hyacinth says, voice firm. "Reborn doesn't take advantage of me."

Arthur answers for her. "Oh dear Haya," he says, smoothing out her hair gently. "We know you can manage yourself. But love makes fools of all of us and we worry sometimes."

Hyacinth blushes and tries to contain the sudden warmth blooming in her chest.

.

* * *

.

All of them settle into her newly made guest bedrooms and there is laughter and kisses being shared.

Hyacinth knows she had been happy with Reborn, all those months when he just suddenly dropped by or stayed for a night. But to have all of her family around her, even if it's just for a night, completes her happiness.

"Teddy couldn't come?" she asks Angelina over dinner, passing the chicken.

Angelina shrugs. "He's staying over with muggle friends. And we thought he couldn't even make some, what with being a metamorphagus and all, but he just keeps his hat on and everything is swell."

Reborn's paranoia must have rubbed off on her because she can picture a dozen different ways the hat could get knocked off.

.

* * *

.

She waves at them when they Floo out, with promises to bring with them Teddy and Andromeda when they came back.

"Andy isn't in a good way, Haya," Charlie, the eternal bachelor, tells her before they left. "She's drifting a bit more."

Worry spikes in Hyacinth, her spine turning cold.

"Is Teddy alright?" she demands. "He shouldn't be left with his grandmother if that's the case."

He pats her on the shoulders. "No, he usually pulls her out of it."

That's swell for Andromeda, but what about Teddy? No child should have to deal with that, the doubts on whether your guardian knew who you were from day to day.

Her plans for next week solidifies.

.

* * *

.

The Wizarding World have a strange view on childcare.

They have no Child Protection Services or anything of that sort. What they have is a Department of Accidental Magic and Underage Wizardry.

Hyacinth knows that none of her friends will note that discrepancy.

She loves Reborn, because if she had not spent time with him, she would have thought that her shy, slightly anthrophobic godson was opening up to new people.

She puts together everything that they told her and everything they did not tell her. The clues points to worrying things.

Teddy is afraid of his grandmother.

.


	31. Reconnaissance

Hyacinth only bears it for two days before her patience cracks and she leaves a note for Reborn, stuck on the espresso machine.

Texting him had not worked and calling only lead to voice mail.

The arse was working.

If his job wasn't the serious, life-threatening kind, she would kill him for worrying her.

But Teddy comes first. Reborn is a big boy and could help himself. Teddy is a child and did not know how to help himself.

.

* * *

.

"Mippy," she starts, quill quivering as it outlined a plan of action. "Can you check on Teddy?"

That is the benefit of having a House-elf. It cut down on ascertaining Teddy's health for herself.

With a crack and a moment's wait, the House-elf comes back with a scowl on her face.

"Mistress," she answers. "The little wolfy be tired. He is squeezy."

Wait, _what?_

"Squeezy?" Hyacinth bleats. "Mippy, is Teddy crying?"

The house-elf nods solemnly. "Squeezy. Them nasty mugglesies be making wolfy cry."

Merlin _damn_ the Statute of Secrecy.

Hyacinth purses her lips and apparates out of the house, the wards allowing her because she held it.

.

* * *

.

It only takes some obliviations (Thank you, Hermione for being an anal person and succeeding on the practical side of obliviation.), a Calming Draught on the poor metamorphagus and another hop skip back to her newly acquired house in Italy.

Teddy is so relieved to see her that he is all but clinging to her torso, little hands shaking in the effort to contain himself.

Hyacinth doesn't allow him. She envelopes him in a thick, wooly blanket and hugs the living daylights out of him right back.

"Oh, my precious Teddy-bear," she whispers in his ears.

He blinks up at her, his thick, woolen hat knocked askew and his eyes unconsciously mimicking hers, hair turning as black and just as messy.

Teddy is easy to love. He burrows into your heart and doesn't let go.

Hyacinth doesn't mind.

.

* * *

.

"Talk to me, cub," she says after feeding him. "Tell me everything."

Teddy sniffs at her, his nose scrunching up before he relaxed.

"Grandma is … lost?" he starts, having a difficulty picking his adjectives. "And it's scary, even if Grandma is nice. So I stay with friends until Grandma gets better, but friends…"

He tugs on his wooly hat and trails off. Hyacinth connects the dots and tries not to seethe.

.

* * *

.

Her mind was made up three days ago anyway. No point of changing it.

Hyacinth arms herself with some papers and her best robes. Mippy is given strict instructions to let only Reborn in the house and no one else, not even the nice Asian man that usually wore red, or the blonde man that went "Kora!" often.

Teddy is instructed to stay put until she can do something for his Grandma, and only asked him to entertain himself with the mountain of toys she exhumed from one of her bags that was enchanted with the Undetectable Extension Charm.

(Okay, so she bought it ages ago, but she loved to spoil him rotten.)

Teddy doesn't even glance at the toys but just hugs her, an extra tight hug that makes Hyacinth's heart melt.

.

* * *

.

As much as Hyacinth wants to enter Andromeda's house with a bang, wands firing off spells or something, there are certain procedures to follow.

Especially since it's Andy.

So she goes to Kingsley first, getting some of the more obscure forms that actually points out to Hyacinth that not all wizards are ridiculous and stupid with childcare.

(The form says: _Inability of Elder Wizard to care and manage a precious Blood Gift.)_

Hyacinth wants to bang her head on the wall. Okay, so maybe they really are stupid with childcare.

Next, she goes to St. Mungo's and only runs into Daphne Greengrass.

Daphne hands over the forms to complete the ones she had. Upon submission, it gave her a slip and the chance to go to the Auror Department to ask for reinforcements.

Not _bloody likely_.

.

* * *

.

Andromeda is restrained with ease.

Thank Merlin for Reborn.

He had taught her that acting uneasy alerted people to your intentions, wizard Occlumency or not. Body Language gave away a lot more than reading the mind.

Smiling and drinking tea, all the while aiming her wand unobtrusively at Andromeda was a lot more effective than swooping in like a bat and binding her with ropes.

The unconscious old woman is shipped to St. Mungo's, Daphne waiting in her scrubs and patiently reading through a clipboard.

"Thanks Daphne," she says, exhaustion suddenly weighing her down.

Her lovely hazel eyes are sympathetic. "Is this because of your godson?" she asks, only polite inquiry in her voice.

Hyacinth just smiles. "He's a lovely boy, isn't he?" It's a non-answer.

However nice Daphne is, it's still important to remember that she's a Slytherin.

.

* * *

.

At the back of her mind, the wards tingle. If she were a rabbit, her ears would perk up in interest.

Sensing people through the wards always feel a little strange, each person feeling different.

This one though, feels as familiar to her as her own magic. It's Reborn, and he has the distinctly bitter feel of coffee and the hardness of steel.

It felt strangely symbolic.

She knows Reborn wouldn't hurt Teddy. Luna had met Reborn once by herself and Reborn hadn't shot her. Teddy is only a child and, though Reborn is always suspicious, he wouldn't shoot immediately.

Besides, there was Mippy to think about too.

.

* * *

.

"Can it be cured?" Hyacinth asks.

Daphne's eyes are solemn. "It's difficult, Hyacinth. She has a minor case of Dementia. If she had been brought in when it started, a cure could happen. But, this was two and half years ago…"

Two and a half years ago, the Battle of Hogwarts ended and the death count was something that horrified all of them. The list of the dead had made people wail.

That had been the time she had dreaded receiving the Daily Prophet, because the death list got updated daily, what with all the victims found in various Pureblood dungeons.

"What can help her?" she finally manages, pulling her mind away from that bloody time.

The healer straightens out, a look of concentration on her face. "Well, we could dose her up with potions and put her to sleep. Her mind will thank us for it. Or, we could hire a mind healer to look into it. But that isn't a guaranteed success."

Oh, Hyacinth knew. Snape had made sure she knew it; that the mind wasn't a book that could be read and rewritten at any time.

"I'll leave her in your care," Hyacinth says.

.


	32. Soft

Reborn notices the metamorphagus when he finally locates the note stuck on the espresso machine.

It always takes him a while, because Sun Flames are not meant to be used like that echo location mechanism that bats can use to navigate in the dark. Rain Flames are better suited for that.

He notices him after a beat of concentration and calmly tucks away the gun he had grasped at the knowledge of someone else in the house. It would have to be someone Hyacinth trusted, or else the House-elf would have taken extreme umbrage.

When he finally finds the boy in one of the many guest bedrooms, playing with wooden blocks half-heartedly, he gives in to surprise.

The boy also takes one look at him, gives out a startled 'eep!' and then vanishes under the bed.

.

* * *

.

" _Bambino_ ," he coaxes, voice as gentle and as soothing as he could make it, which is a lot. Hyacinth had once complained that if he just gave in to pride and _sang_ , he could rule the world. " _Bambino_ , little one, if you hide from under the bed, you will hurt your back and your head. If you come out, I can make you a better hiding place."

There is a small shuffling sound and a peak of teal hair. Reborn doesn't give in to the impulse of just grabbing him. He had to get out from under the bed with his own volition.

He knows who the child is, of course. Hyacinth, once you prompted her to talk and she trusted you enough not to obliviate you, would always talk about her godson. That wasn't always the topic because Hyacinth could wax lyrical about harmonizing colors and swatches of colored fabrics if she got into the mood of it.

Teddy's head finally emerges from under the bed and he is watching the hitman with suspicion.

If it was a different situation, Reborn would have laughed because it was too adorable to take seriously.

"You know Haya?" he asks.

Reborn's face isn't suited for soothing smiles. (He had tried it, facing a mirror.) He settles for nodding and holding out a hand, giving him the option of choosing.

"Well," he says. "Hyacinth and I live here."

He calls it a success when Teddy finally crawls out, a tentative little hand on his own.

.

* * *

.

Getting information out of Teddy is easy. Easier than all other infiltration missions he had taken as an Arcobaleno.

"Grandma was scary," Teddy whispers, hidden entirely under the blankets. "She says to Teddy, 'Edward, look at the picture of your muma, and try to look like her.' Except, Teddy can't. Teddy hasn't tried changing that yet, only colors. And she gets angry and she tries to teach him but she can't because she wants muma and not Teddy.

He peeks out from under the blanket, eyes unconsciously mimicking Reborn's eyes, black iris with fathomless depths.

He feels his heart melting and steels himself a little. No need to get goey and mushy. He wouldn't like to sound like Iemitsu.

( _No, he really does not sound like that retired asshole._ )

.

* * *

.

"Did she hurt you?" he asks, hand petting the boy who had gone back to hiding after assuring himself that Reborn wouldn't hurt him. "Did she yell at you? It's alright, _Bambino._ No one is angry at you."

Reborn gets it out of him, little increments of information that is slowly coaxed out with gentleness and cookies. By the time Hyacinth gets back, it is to find Teddy on Reborn's lap, slowly morphing himself under the hitman's guidance. He might not be a magical, but he was a Home Tutor. He knew how to teach, knowing how to guide people's abilities through theory and hypothesis.

Hyacinth looks at this and melts into a puddle, squeezing her hands in an effort to contain herself.

"I'm home," she whispers. "Little Teddy. Do you like Reborn?"

Teddy, having hidden behind the sofa at the _whoosh!_ of the Floo, clambers back to Reborn's lap with a nod.

"Do you like him to come with us tomorrow?" she asks, prodding him when he hid his face against the hitman's shoulders.

"Why?" Teddy asks. "Haya is keeping Teddy? Teddy stays with Haya?"

She moves slowly, kissing him on the forehead. "Yes Teddy. You are. But you need to be there when I sign the papers, or else the ministry won't believe it."

As expected, the idea of going to a crowd terrified him, even just for the mention of it. She really needed to let him see a therapist for his developing anthrophobia.

.

* * *

.

"Sorry love," she says to Reborn once all the sugar lost its effect and Teddy fell asleep. "I arranged your schedule for you."

Reborn tugs her close, making her let go of the mixing bowl and spatula and just hugging her. "I don't mind," he murmurs. "I have never seen your ministry before, so this will be an experience."

They don't mention Teddy. Not yet.

But they look at each other and see a wealth of words unsaid. No matter the outcome of her argument with the minister, Edward Lupin will have a home.

.

* * *

.

They make heads turn once they enter the ministry and not because they are a striking couple.

Reborn is so obviously a muggle that you could practically _see_ it. Hyacinth is a very well-known person that everybody makes way as she passes. Teddy Lupin is just as well-known, being connected with several famous names in his family history. That he is clinging to Reborn, the muggle, makes a statement.

The guard that checked all wands and their entry in the ministry jumps to his feet and forgets about his job.

"Miss Potter!" he exclaims. "An honor to meet you, Miss Potter."

Hyacinth is starting to regret going through the official channels. She could have just Flooed directly to Hermione's office to prevent the gawking, but this is Reborn's first time and she had wanted him to see her world.

Also, there is that glint in Reborn's eye that makes her nervous. He is looking at all the men inching to shake her hand and his shoulders are twitching and tense. He obviously wants to pull out his gun and start being intimidating.

If it weren't for Teddy, she would have turn tail and ran once she saw the crowd. She had forgotten that working hours for the ministry was _packed_ with people.

.

* * *

.

"Just a little while," Reborn murmurs to the shaking boy. "Listen to my heart, Teddy. Listen to my heart. It's like a little drum, right?"

The boy nods but his shaking lessens. "Just like a little drum," he repeats.

He meets Hyacinth's eyes over a teal head and she nods at him, letting out a few words and leaving the crowd behind with ease.

He envies her the control of the crowd, even if it makes him irritable. He didn't like how some of the men had said her name with such familiarity.

Reborn contents himself with holding the boy. He had already worn himself in his heart and Reborn hated Andromeda Tonks, just a bit.

To terrorize Teddy to the extent that the child no longer knew how to change his shape, just because the old woman wanted to see her daughter again, was too much.

.


	33. Confidence

The elevators are not devoid of people, but neither are they filled to bursting.

Hyacinth is receiving the most polite staring she has received in a while and grins when she realizes that it is because of Reborn's glare.

Usually, when people realize that it is her - the witch with too many hyphenated names, they rush forward and shake her hand, sometimes even giving her fingers an audacious kiss.

Initially, when it had started, Hyacinth had blushed as red as a tomato and stammered. She had gotten used to it, thankfully, because people kept doing it just to see her flustered.

"How far are we going?" Reborn growls out, though his volume is low enough not to stress out Teddy.

She schools her expression, removing her smirk.

"A couple of floors down, love," she answers, voice low but not bothering to be quiet. Let the arses get into a tizzy. It was their fault for eavesdropping.

His shoulders are stiff. Hyacinth holds his free hand and soothes his knuckles. Inch by inch, he un-tenses and tightens his hold on her hand right back.

Those in the elevator with them look like they want to faint, or perhaps break into a dozen questions.

Hyacinth wants to laugh or cry, whichever comes first.

.

* * *

.

Kingsley is waiting for them as they leave the elevator.

Hyacinth rushes forward, giving the man a hug for being a bloody saint. He is probably interrupting several meetings just to cut through the bureaucratic crap for her, but it is worth it for Teddy. Her name had some uses, after all.

"You are a saint," she whispers.

Kingsley smiles in that calming manner that everybody loves him for. "It is all I could do for a good friend. And for the son of a colleague."

Ah, of course. Tonks had been part of Kingsley's team when he had been an active Auror.

Reborn gives a cough behind her and she introduces both men.

They immediately start sizing each other up and Hyacinth wants to despair of the testosterone levels rising.

"You lot," she says. "There'll be enough of that later. Can we hurry home?" Teddy is the unsaid reason and they all know that.

Reborn is, as always, shameless. Kingsley has the grace to blush.

.

* * *

.

The signing is witnessed by Kingsley's secretary and the random wizard who they grabbed from the hallways. Judging by the bewildered look on the man's face, he has little to no clue on what is happening around him.

Hyacinth would laugh if it isn't so serious. As it is, Teddy's smile more than makes up for the trouble of it, and Reborn's eyes crease with amusement even if his face shows no change.

"Congratulations," Kingsley says to Teddy. He pats the teal hair and Teddy smiles up at him sweetly. More than one heart melts at the sight.

"Thanks again, Kingsley," she tells him. "I really can't repay you for it."

Kingsley kisses her forehead and there is a pointed cough coming from Reborn.

"Haya, for everything _you_ have done for us, nobody can ever repay you," he points out.

She blushes and would have said something else, but she glances at Reborn's face and it is all but conveying his irritation. Hyacinth holds back her wince and says her farewell to the minister quickly.

The trip home is made in silence.

.

* * *

.

Reborn only waits for Mippy to distract Teddy before he grabs Hyacinth's hand and drags her to the bedroom.

Hyacinth goes willingly, if with a crease on her eyebrows.

He is a territorial thing, she knows. If he cannot handle other people giving her affection, she will _hurt_ him. Because she is the epicenter of an entire Society's adoration and her people's ways of affection are plenty and varied.

But Reborn does not hold her angrily or possessively. He holds her like she is the most precious thing in the world, fragile and breakable. He looks at her intently, memorizing her face like she would vanish if he blinks.

It takes her a moment, but she understands. Reborn needs reassurance and she gives it slowly but surely.

No matter the strength and steadiness of their relationship, there are still moments of insecurity.

.

* * *

.

Teddy gets most of her attention.

She thinks about setting up play dates with people and worries with placing him in the Wizarding World. Her people may love her, but she is not blind to their faults. They are old-fashioned and she worries about what to do with him.

Reborn takes care of it, for the most part. A lot of his friends are the sort of people to give confidence. Reborn himself gives her confidence just by holding her hand.

He makes a couple of calls and the next thing she knows, a smiling Yuni arrives bearing gifts and dragging behind her a cringing Tsuna.

"Tsuna!" she says, with some confusion.

He greets her with a shy smile. "Hello," he answers. "I have no idea why I'm here."

Hyacinth laughs because that sounds like Reborn's schemes.

.

* * *

.

Yuni is young enough to get away with playing with Teddy. Though the young boy expresses some confusion why an older child - _a girl at that_ \- is willingly playing with him, he absorbs the attention like a sponge.

Hyacinth listens to Teddy laugh and tease Yuni in his broken, often grammatically wrong English and feels relief.

It usually would have taken Hyacinth some coaxing and a bit of wheedling to get Teddy to talk to her at all. This loud Teddy makes her feel better, because he finally sounded like a child.

Tsuna is preoccupied with Reborn and Hyacinth laughs at his look of comical despair. She doesn't intervene, because his eyes tell her in volumes how much he missed his old tutor.

Reborn finally pulls out a gun. Probably a toy gun.

"Not in the house!" she cries out as she sets the timer for the oven.

Tsuna sobs and she finds him really dramatic.

( _Oh Hyacinth, you clueless thing_.)

.

* * *

.

"Everybody, take a break!" she calls out. There is a mad rush to the kitchen, even little Teddy drags Yuni to the table, chattering a mile a minute about his favorite snack.

Food always brings people together, she muses.

She lays out some cider, milk and cookies. Teddy's favorite food, donuts is placed on a separate plate and Hyacinth wrinkles her nose at it. Teddy possessively places a hand to barricade the donuts with him and she exchanges a look of mirth with Reborn.

"Looks familiar?" she mutters to him.

Reborn's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter. "I _do not_ hoard cookies like that," he says, voice shaking a little.

She gives a pointed look at the cookies he had on a napkin beside him and the eavesdropping Yuni muffles a laugh into a tissue.

.

* * *

.

"What did you get out of Teddy?" she finally asks him that night.

He strokes a hand down her bare arms, sensitive fingers finding the silver scars she had and mapping them out.

"His grandmother," he starts. "Has terrible coping mechanisms. Your pictures move, yes?" She nods and he continues, "She probably thought that if she just saw her daughter in the flesh, one last time, she could say her goodbye's properly or all that nonsense."

She pushes down the bed and props her head on a hand to look at him. Reborn's eyes are closed and his mouth is turned down to a frown.

"Nonsense?" she asks carefully. "Why do you call it that?"

He opens his eyes and gives her a serious look. "Funerals and anniversaries are for the living," he says. "Not for the dead. Teddy's grandmother doesn't understand that dying is merely a missed opportunity. Death just means one end."

For Hyacinth, who had personally talked to the spirits of her deceased parents, her deceased godfather and deceased pseudo-uncle, she understood this concept really well.

She lay her head down again and sighs. "The headmaster in my old school once said, Death is just another adventure. But I understand Andromeda too. Everyone she loves is dead, you see."

Reborn's frown is still there. "That doesn't excuse what she did," he mutters. "Everybody I used to know is dead or dying, and nobody really sees me wither like that."

It's at the tip of Hyacinth's tongue to tell him that he's a unique sort of person and if everybody in the world were like him, there'd be no therapists needed.

.

* * *

.

_Everybody that I used to know is dead or dying._

Hyacinth, to her irritation, finds herself chewing over that for the rest of the night.

.


	34. Assumptions

Hyacinth knows that Reborn keeps secrets from her. Case in point, she didn't even know his real name.

She didn't really mind, not really. She had learned it the hard way when she was still in Hogwarts. Some secrets were just not worth knowing.

Still, she didn't get into trouble with the Philosopher's stone for nothing. Hyacinth had the curiosity of a cat and the tenacity of a bulldog once she got it in her head to find something out.

Reborn's secrets though…

One of the many reasons she loves him is because he always waited until she was ready to speak. He never pressed her, or forced her to tell him everything.

So she will wait until he is ready to tell her.

It will burn her, but she will wait.

.

* * *

.

Teddy is opening up and smiling a bit more.

Yuni visits every three days and plays with him, sometimes bringing bodyguards and sometimes arriving alone.

As a consequence, Hyacinth gets to be closer to the young mafia heiress and hears little secrets about her lovers life that he should have been the one to tell her.

But Reborn is not there. He received a phone call and is working.

Hyacinth listens with wide eyes and tries not to make any early judgments.

Like one such conversation:

.

"Reborn is my uncle," Yuni says while Teddy naps behind them. "And my mother calls him uncle too, because he was there when she was born."

Hyacinth blinks and tries not to calculate how old that would make Reborn.

"He looks very young for his age," she manages, covering her worried frown with a tea cup.

Yuni nods solemnly. "It's something he was cursed with. Seven of them, really."

Seven is a magical number. Hyacinth takes this in and tries not to make assumptions based on half-baked facts. Nothing is really certain and assumptions are one serious way to destroy a relationship.

She tries not to think that Tom Riddle had tried to find immortality as well and nearly succeeded.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth and Teddy's relationship is based on conversations.

Before Hyacinth had met Reborn, she would visit her godson and take him to the park. She would lay on the grass and place the young boy beside her and ask him about his life, if he had done something interesting so far, or if he had met someone of note.

It is an interesting conversation. Mainly because Teddy does his best not to lie to her and Hyacinth will always believe him.

Children, after all, become liars if the adults treat them like one.

.

* * *

.

"What did you do today?" she asks him.

Teddy smiles up at her around a mouthful of homemade ice cream. "Yuni visited Teddy," he says, pronouncing his words carefully because Reborn didn't like lisping. "Yuni teached Teddy the secret handshake."

Hyacinth didn't laugh, but it is a close thing. "Can I learn the secret handshake too?" she asks him.

Teddy gives an impish little giggle and shakes his head. The little scamp.

"What do you think of Reborn?" she asks. "Isn't he nice?"

Teddy considers this seriously, actually pushing away his bowl of ice cream to place his elbows on the table and think.

"He is scary," he answers and Hyacinth feels her heart sink a little bit. "But he is nice to Teddy. His eyes look at Teddy and Teddy feels better."

Hyacinth smiles. What a confession, and wasn't it a strange thing to consider? Teddy found being watched by Reborn to be safe.

Just to conclude it, Teddy adds, "But he needs to smile more."

Hyacinth muffles her laughter.

.

* * *

.

Reborn comes back to a thunderstorm.

Teddy and Hyacinth are camping out in the kitchen, toasting marshmallows with balls of fire placed in jars and huddling together in blankets, steaming cups of hot chocolate in front of them. Mippy is by the kitchen sink, sticking marshmallows on blunted barbeque sticks and passing them along to be toasted.

Hyacinth sees him first and her face lights up in happiness. Teddy finds him next and the child drops his stick, making Hyacinth catch it. The boy doesn't mind the casualty of the marshmallow and throws himself at Reborn.

"Hello," he says to them. "Isn't this cozy?"

Hyacinth laughs at the sight of Teddy climbing up Reborn's arms like a monkey. Her sharp eyes notice the ginger way Reborn is holding the boy.

"Isn't it?" she agrees. "Tonight is the night when the thundergod and his wife are arguing."

His eyebrow goes up. "That's a new one," he says. "What's it about?"

She hands him a stick and a cup of hot chocolate. "The wife wants to come down to earth to look for their son, but the thundergod cannot bear to lose her as well and so they have an argument," she answers.

Teddy pipes up from Reborn's embrace. "The son is with the thundergod's brother."

Reborn gives her a look and she laughs. "No, really. That's his opinion."

She didn't teach the boy about adultery. Teddy just had the idea that sleepovers with relatives were fun.

Her mind isn't on the story about the thundergod though. Reborn didn't say anything, or express his opinion about the silly story. That just isn't like him.

.

* * *

.

"I saw you flinch earlier," she says as soon as she got Teddy to sleep.

Reborn is already taking off his suit without argument, the clothes being taken by house-elf magic to be washed and pressed. The fedora is the only thing he keeps on.

On his back is a crisscrossing series of red welts, some of them breaking skin and oozing blood.

Hyacinth wants to cry because she recognizes whip marks when she sees them.

"Love," she whispers. "Should I ask?"

She grabs the healing salve by the bed and two rolls of bandages.

Reborn doesn't answer and Hyacinth's theories rise up to choke her.

.

* * *

.

Reborn is skilled at reading people and he knows what he sees in his lovers eyes.

There is no judgement, but there is fear. A lot of fear when she looks at him. Someone talked and he wants to shoot something, because his sweet, lovely flower had already experienced enough darkness to deal with his own darkness too.

" _Amante_ ," he manages to say out of a parched throat.

She jumps up before sighing at him with relief. "You looked like you were drugged last night," she says. Her hands tremble.

_Merde!_

"I feel better," he manages to say. "I think I was hit by a gas or a hallucinogen."

Reborn willingly downs the potions handed to him and he vomits out black sludge. Hyacinth is there with a wet cloth, wiping away at his face gently and urging him back to bed.

"The last time I heard the word 'hallucinogen'," Hyacinth is muttering. "Was when Hermione lent me that super spy book."

He gives out a weak laugh. "If only that was only in fiction."

She is still worried. "What do you remember of last night?" she asks.

Reborn thinks back, eyes fluttering in exhaustion. "I remember hot chocolate," he mumbles. "And marshmallows. There was definitely marshmallows."

Hyacinth finally smiles, relief on her face. "I thought it affected your mind," she explains. "You weren't acting like yourself."

She kisses him and shifts up the blankets. "Get some rest, love."

He falls asleep, wondering at that fear in her eyes.

.


	35. Clarification

Neville and Hannah volunteer to take Teddy to the Magical Fair that happens once every two years.

Hyacinth had founded it the moment she could look around and notice how glum everything was after the war. It only took some bantering with Hermione and bouncing around some ideas with Ron to get to it.

The Magical Fair was the magical dream of every child and Hyacinth was honored to have been part of its creation.

.

* * *

.

"Have fun!" she calls to the trio as they walked out of the wards for apparition.

Teddy bounces on Hannah's hip as he waves at her, a trailing white scarf covering half of his face to hide his insecurity, and his identity.

With a _crack!_ they vanish and Hyacinth sighs sadly. She misses him already and she only saw him out the door.

"Are they gone?" Reborn asks, half naked and still wincing when he breathed wrong. "Ah, a bit of peace and quiet."

She sits beside him on the sofa and breathes in. She always loves his scent and it always calms her down.

"You should get a shirt," she mumbles, the position on the sofa, Reborn's warmth and the early morning contributing to a sleepy witch. "What if someone drops by?"

He gives her an amused look, which she misses with her eyes half-closed. "You care about propriety _now_?" he asks.

Hyacinth is asleep and doesn't hear him. Reborn shakes his head and resigns himself to be a heater for the day.

.

* * *

.

Everything is suddenly cast in a dreamy haze when Hyacinth wakes up.

The clouds are covering the sun and the sky in a stream of white. The garden is flowering and covered in dewy drops. If there was sunlight, things would be sparkling.

She blinks herself awake and pushes herself off the sofa, a blanket she didn't know was on her falls off and she pauses to pick it up.

"What," she mumbles.

Reborn cleaning his gun on the floor next to the sofa suddenly had the world going back to sharp focus and Hyacinth finally understands that she isn't dreaming.

"What time is it?" she asks.

He looks up and quirks a smile at her. "Afternoon. You missed lunch," he says.

He isn't hungry because she has never known Reborn to wait for someone when it came to eating. Mippy probably cooked for him.

"What do you like to eat today?" she asks.

He shrugs and then grimaces. "Anything. Somehow, I am craving for your cooking, not for anything specific."

She tries not to blush and fails miserably.

"You flatterer," she mutters and heads to the kitchen.

.

* * *

.

It is in the middle of eating and making fun of Reborn's bed hair that Hyacinth remembers Yuni's words.

She puts down her fork and leans on the table.

"Hey, Reborn," she says softly. She doesn't notice his look of concern. "Yuni told me something that had me thinking."

He gestures at her to continue and she looks down. "She told me that she called you 'uncle' because her mother called you uncle…because you were there when her mother was born."

Reborn goes still, his hands unmoving on the utensils. "Yes, that's true."

She sniffs. "How can you still look so young? Yuni also said something about seven other people?"

Reborn stands up and Hyacinth is ashamed to say that she gives out a little squeak. She looks up to see his face and he is distressed. He goes around the kitchen table and enfolds her in his arms.

Reborn is not tense. He is worried.

"Yuni should have known better," he mutters, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and making her shiver. "Yes, I am that old, _amante_. Does the age bother you?"

The question actually derails Hyacinth from her worries about strange rituals.

Because there are people in the wizarding world who lived until two hundred fifty and love really had no boundaries. Heck, there was an entire corridor in the Department of Mysteries dedicated to the study of love.

"No," she says and her voice is steady. "Age really doesn't matter. But how you got to such an age matters."

Reborn sighs and the truth spills out.

.

* * *

.

Reborn hadn't actually intended to tell Hyacinth. She had enough troubles of her own, no need to add his own burdens.

But there was fear in her voice when she started the topic. Whatever it was that she was thinking needed to be stopped.

So he spilled and prayed to any passing deity that this was the right decision.

"I am the World's Greatest Hitman," he starts. "And I have been for the last four and a half decades. When I just recently acquired that title, a man approached me and gave me a proposition. Since I was starting to get bored with the jobs given to me and there was hardly a challenge, he offered me one. I was to work in a team of six other people who were also the best in their field."

Whatever anyone said about Hyacinth, she wasn't dull. She connects his words with a ball and seven other people. She jerks up in surprise and stares at him. He stares back evenly.

"We had fun, and then we were cursed to live for the next three decades as infants, un-ageing, unchanging, forever children," he whispers. "Because that was the curse of the Arcobaleno, and it was always _gifted_ to the I Prescelti Sette: The World's Strongest Seven."

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth's arms wind up around Reborn's shoulders and she rests her head on his chest.

"Sorry," she sighs. "But she mentioned the number seven and that is a very magical number."

It is obvious that talking about it had disquieted him. His shoulders were tense and his hands were stiff. Hyacinth soothes that and kisses him, gentle little nips that has him relaxing.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't think. I thought…"

To her surprise, he gives her a smirk. "This ought to be interesting. What were you thinking?"

She blushes to the roots of her hair.

"There are rituals in my world," she says, almost paralyzed with embarrassment. "That prolongs life. But it usually involves…blood. Like…untouched blood."

It takes him a moment to understand and then he is laughing into her neck, little huffs of breath that tickle.

"You mean to say, virgin blood?" he asks. " _Amante_ , didn't you fit that description?"

She scowls at him and he laughs harder, nearly doubled over.

"Shut it," she mutters. "Eat your pie."

He stifles his laughter and sits down.

"This topic isn't finished," she warns him. "Don't think this is over."

.

* * *

.

"How was your outing?" she asks Teddy, their usual ritual of talking about their experiences for the day done over a bowl of ice cream and cookie dough sprinkles.

He ducks his head and nearly upends his bowl. His cheeks are flushed with embarrassment.

"It was okay. You were there," he says.

Hyacinth blinks in surprise. "I was?" she asks.

Teddy nods eagerly. "Yup. And you were a really big statue, Haya."

_Oh Merlin._

"Anything else interesting happen?" she prods, ignoring for the moment, the giant statue that apparently got erected in Hogsmeade Village in her honor.

"Neville and Hannah kissed," he announces. "And it was very gross."

She smothers her laughter with a mouthful of ice cream.

"What did you buy?" she asks.

He digs into a pocket and produces a locket. "It's for Haya," he says seriously. "So that Haya won't forget Teddy."

Hyacinth is reminded, yet again, of why she adopted this boy. Her heart melts and she gives in to impulse and kisses him on the forehead.

.


	36. Security

Hyacinth wakes from her sleep by that distinct feeling of _wrongness._

She sits up and listens, ignoring the sleeping form beside her slowly stirring awake.

A whimper drifts down to her room and she _moves_ , feet hurrying to Teddy's room.

As she thought, Teddy is in the throes of a nightmare, little torso twisting as he tries to get away from his own dreams.

"Teddy-bear," she whispers, hands gently shaking him awake. "Teddy, wake up."

He does, jolting awake with a sort of urgency that breaks her heart. His hair is colored black with fear and his eyes are colored red.

"'Aya!" he whimpers. ""Aya! Ther gian' gumma an' – "

He is incoherent and Hyacinth allows him to rant it out, hand rubbing his back in soothing circles. She knows he is calm again when his hair morphs back to the color of teal, eyes going to a sleepy hazel.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" she asks. Her mind wonders back to Reborn but she knows he wouldn't mind. He would grumble, but he wouldn't really mind.

"Please," he answers, speech back to normal.

She carries him to her bedroom and finds Reborn awake. She notes it by the lack of rhythmic breathing and the half-lidded eyes watching her movement.

"He had a nightmare," she explains. "You'll keep him safe from the monsters, won't you?"

Teddy removes his head from her shoulders to glance at Reborn. To her surprise, he twists around to raise his hands in the universal gesture of children to be picked up.

Reborn picks him up with barely any hesitation, hauling himself out of bed smoothly and elegantly. Hyacinth drools a bit.

"Let's get to bed," Reborn mutters, patting a teal head.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth and Teddy are a bit bleary-eyed the next morning. Reborn, the annoying arse that could function on two hours of sleep even when previously injured, is bright-eyed and fully-dressed.

It would be very easy to hate him if Hyacinth wasn't a morning person. Well, she isn't a morning person, more of a 'everyday-is-a-new-day' person. So she just contents herself at glaring at him.

"Isn't it a lovely morning?" he drawls out, reclining on the kitchen counter and sipping on a mug of coffee.

Teddy is holding on to Hyacinth's hand and he giggles. "Why are you wearing a hat, Reborn?" he asks.

Hyacinth smirks. "Yes, Reborn. Why are you wearing a hat inside the house?"

With a scowl, he removes the fedora and carefully places it on the counter top, away from Teddy.

Ridiculous man, she thinks fondly. He bickers with Teddy on the matter of fruit loops and sneaks the boy bits of chocolate when he thinks she isn't looking.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth comes back from a shopping trip to find Teddy on Reborn's lap, both of them facing a chessboard.

"Hello," she greets them. "What are you boys up to?"

Teddy wriggles down from Reborn's lap and gives her a hug. "Hello. Reborn is teaching Teddy to play chess."

She kisses his forehead and laughs at Reborn's disgruntled expression. He really didn't like to be caught being sweet and mushy. His words, anyway.

"I'm in the mood for baking," she announces. "What should I bake?"

Immediately, both of them announce favorites. Cookies and doughnuts. They start to bicker while waging war over the chessboard.

Hyacinth watches this with exasperation before laughing softly, making her way to the kitchen to create both.

.

* * *

.

"You're both ridiculous," she announces, thoroughly fed up.

There is a liberal amount of chocolate frosting for the doughnuts spread all over, some of it even getting to the ceiling. Cookie dough is splattered on the counter and even Hyacinth is not spared from the splash effect, her apron an artwork of splashed frosting and flour.

"We wanted to help you," Teddy says and he looks completely happy while half-covered in frosting.

"It's free labor," Reborn agrees.

The doughnuts are done with erratic looking designs. The cookies are shaped into throwing stars, knives and guns, not her usual circles.

"Well," she sighs, conceding defeat in the face of Teddy's earnest efforts. "At least Mippy will be happy with something to clean up."

Reborn, the smug bastard, laughs at her.

.

* * *

.

In the afternoon, Hyacinth tackles the garden.

She had just figured out what parents of mischievous children find out: Sometimes, ignorance is bliss.

So she doesn't think about Teddy being under Reborn's watch and what a hitman might be teaching her godson and she doesn't think about the messy kitchen and what Mippy would say when she comes back from maintaining the lawn.

Hyacinth weeds the garden and doesn't think about anything pressing.

The flowers are blooming, the camellias are fine. The sunflowers she planted are not droopy and everything is fine and _quiet_. Too quiet.

_Oh, Merlin._

The only terrible thing about having a noisy Reborn and Teddy is when they go quiet.

"I wonder what the two of them are doing," she mutters.

Hyacinth manages for another five minutes before she gives up and washes her hands, heading towards the house with trepidation.

.

* * *

.

Teddy is playing with a toy gun.

Hyacinth feels her fears easing back, up until the moment Teddy shoots and it is enough to shatter a window with its force.

"Reborn!" she cries. "What if he hurts himself?"

Her lover just grins. "I taught him the basics," he says. "He just needs practice."

There is no arguing with the man. Especially when Teddy uses the gun like a safety blanket, never letting it out of his sight.

When he gets no nightmares, Hyacinth rolls her eyes at her lover and concedes again. "Alright, you can continue teaching him," she mutters. "But he doesn't join any of your Mafia stuff until he's old enough to decide for himself, alright?"

Reborn looks affronted but Hyacinth knows him well enough that she doesn't buy it.

"Alright," he says. "But I still get to teach him. That boy needs some confidence."

Whatever he says, Hyacinth just grins into her napkin because his guiding hands on Teddy's shoulders are gentle and his words are kind.

.


	37. Sharing

There are secrets and even more secrets that characterize Reborn's life.

He doesn't want to share it, because it is like unearthing bones, long buried and well-ignored.

But however patient Hyacinth is, she won't wait forever. It is inevitable, he knows.

He will start sharing, however small. Preferably, starting with his real name.

The loathsome, hated real name.

.

* * *

.

They don't have any serious discussions with Teddy in the house. Teddy is sensitive to the atmosphere, given that he changes his appearance to match his emotions.

They can, however, commission Reborn's student, Tsuna and his guardians to watch over the boy while they went away for a cup of coffee. (She wanted Yuni, but the young woman was busy with her own Familigia and suggested Tsuna, saying that her friend needed a vacation.)

Though they left before the rest of the guardians could arrive, Hyacinth gave enough notes to Tsuna about Teddy's likes and dislikes.

"He doesn't like sudden loud noises," she had instructed the young man. "And if he meets someone he doesn't like, well…you'll know. Don't worry, everything will be fine."

Tsuna seemed to have paled at the mention of 'no loud noises'.

Hyacinth wonders why.

.

* * *

.

"Do you think they'll be alright?" she mutters as they line for their order in the coffee shop.

Reborn shrugs. "They know what will happen if they mess up." The glint in his eye tells her what will happen to them too. She stifles her laughter because he is such a protective little thing.

.

" _Hiie! He changed the color of his hair!"_

" _Jyuudaime, check the notes. Does it say anything about that?"_

_A laugh. "Maa, maa. Let's all calm down everybody. Look, Teddy-kun is hiding under the sofa."_

_A pause, and then a thump. "Little animal, get out from under that chair."_

_There was a crack and then mad scrambling. "Bossu! He vanished from under the sofa!"_

" _How extreme!"_

" _You idiot! Don't scare the boy!"_

" _Hiiiee! Reborn is going to kill us."_

" _Kufufufu! How entertaining."_

_._

* * *

_._

"So," she starts, eyes seemingly mesmerized in watching her teaspoon stir her tea. "Are we sharing things now?"

He drinks his coffee. " _Amante_ , that will be up to you. However, I think it's time you know my past before some idiot tells you something that makes you think of something ridiculous."

Hyacinth blushes, thinking of her misconceptions of the Arcobaleno curse.

"My real name," he murmurs. "Is Renato Sinclair. As of last month, I am sixty-four years old."

She puts down the mug in case she drops it in her surprise. A hand wave and there is a privacy ward around them. If both of them are going to be sharing earth-shattering secrets, nobody else has the right to hear it.

"The first time I killed a man," he continues and Hyacinth listens, struggling to clear her eyes of any judgement. "Was when I was seven. An accident and it was messy as hell. My mother had to sell some of her jewelry just so I couldn't get caught. When I was eight, I received my first gun and used it in self-defense."

.

* * *

.

It is the sharing of a long history and it takes them the better part of the morning and some bits of the afternoon. Hyacinth has questions of course, but it isn't the time. Reborn is many things, but he isn't a story teller. There are some things that need further questioning.

There's a reason, though, of why it's called an exchange, a sharing of information.

Hyacinth doesn't feel comfortable about it, but she won't feel better if she doesn't tell him about herself as well.

"There is a creature," she starts out. "In our world that is capable of giving you despair. It is called a Dementor, and when it comes close enough, you are forced to recall your worst memories. In my case, I met them when I was in my third year and that was the first time I believed I was loved. Because the memory that surfaced was my mother screaming for mercy, because she wanted me to be spared."

"Your homicidal Dark Lord?" he queries and she nods.

"Yes," she says. "I had grown up hearing from my Aunt that my parents were drunkards and layabouts, that I was useless and unloved. That Dementor, however horrible it was to hear my mother scream, was my first evidence that I was loved."

Reborn continues asking and Hyacinth answers, giving information as freely as she could manage. It feels like ripping bandages from oozing, infected wounds.

It hurts and she knows that he feels the same.

By the end of it, both of them feel better, but exhausted. Almost like they had run several marathons while juggling knives.

.

* * *

.

He looks at her with new eyes, filled with respect and a deeper understanding. Reborn finds that he admires her for her courage.

She looks at him with awareness and understanding of how he got where he was. It is unnerving and slightly frightening.

Both of them had so much more ammunition against each other than anybody else ever had. If they ever fight, it will be devastating.

Hyacinth breaks this realization by starting, her wand vibrating in her pocket.

"Oh Merlin," she mutters. "Teddy! That's Mippy's alarm. Love, we have to go home. Something has our house-elf alarmed."

The endearment she uses, the pronouns that she utilized, all of them has him holding back a smile.

"Of course she's alarmed," he reasons, standing up and slipping money under his mug. "It's already nearing dinner. _I_ wouldn't trust those children to touch the kitchen."

She all but drags him to the nearest alleyway in fright.

.

* * *

.

"What happened here?" she asks the moment she walks through the door.

 _Thankfully_ , there is nothing broken. All the dishes and the only vase are still standing. The paintings are unscorched and the chairs are still standing.

But there is flour _everywhere_ and paint. Paint and something gooey that she doesn't look at too closely in case she regrets it.

"Baka-Tsuna," Reborn growls. "What happened?"

Tsuna manages a weak laugh. There is genuine amusement in it. "Teddy-kun vanished when Onii-san startled him."

"What?!" Hyacinth exclaims with worry.

"Chrome found him by the oven," he hurriedly assures her. "and then Lambo managed to knock over a chair when he was running towards him. _Somehow_ , though I don't _know_ where it came from, flour suddenly happened and then Yamamoto started a flour-ball fight."

Hyacinth starts laughing. She doesn't _look_ angry, but she is laughing so hard that tears are falling from her eyes. Reborn is looking at her with concern.

For the sake of his sanity, Tsuna continues, "Teddy-kun kept winning. Hibari-san and Mukuro didn't like that. I _think_ that's when the paint comes in, though Hayato doesn't answer me when I ask."

She finally catches her breath and asks, "What's that gloopy thing?"

Tsuna blushes. "Ahaha, Lambo brought some sweets to share with Teddy-kun. I _think_ something exploded the Jello, though I'm not sure who."

.

* * *

.

A flour covered little boy crawls to her and she picks him up, uncaring of the mess. "You lovely prankster," she whispers to his ear. "You did all that. Did you have fun making them all run around in circles?"

A giggle answers her and large blinks up at her, slowly morphing into the same green eyes. "Teddy have fun. But at start, Teddy scared. Tuna is very nice, but his friends shout a lot," he reports. He cocks his head to the side to consider and concludes everything with, "Very fun. Thank you, Haya."

.

* * *

.

She invites them all for dinner, but all the young men look at her smiling face, her hands around the flour-covered Teddy, and unanimously decide not to stay any longer.

None of them seem capable of looking at her for more than a second, though the young girl that looks like Mukuro manages it for a minute before blushing red. (Hyacinth wants to coo. She's so adorable, with her big, round eye and eye-patch.)

"But you must be hungry after playing with Teddy for the whole day," she says with some dismay.

Tsuna smiles. (She loves his smiles. It's like watching a fluffy large cat showing off its teeth. She didn't know a smile could be used like that.) "It's alright," he says. "I think all of us just want to sleep rather than eat."

They hurry to leave and Reborn, strangely enough, looks like he's holding back laughter.

.

* * *

.

"What's up with that?" she mutters.

He clears his throat. " _Amante_ , with the mess they made of your living room and kitchen, they thought you were going to poison their food. I've never heard of a dinner invitation sound so lethal," he remarks.

Hyacinth blushes. "I am the least threatening person in the world," she mutters under her breath. "I wouldn't poison them. If I hated somebody, I'd rather let them know I hated them than hiding behind food."

He knows that too, which is why it is hilarious.

.


	38. Inferring

Obsessive behavior is one sign of childhood trauma.

There are some people who go through their whole lives unaffected and not remembering their own childhood, only content in knowing that it was happy.

However, Hyacinth remembers and she knows that sometimes, and it is sad. It creeps up on her and makes Reborn's shoulders stiff and his eyes cold, hard and terrible.

But Reborn's hold on her is gentle and Teddy is there, innocent and happy.

And she blinks and the echoes are gone.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth has nightmares, and the way she experiences them is without letting out a sound.

It is an ingrained habit, a fear that her Uncle will hear her at night and make her nightmares real.

Reborn knows about it because he is a very light sleeper and he immediately wakes up once she starts holding herself stiffly in her sleep, one hand clamped over her mouth, teeth biting down on her lips and breaking skin.

He soothes them by singing. He doesn't touch her, because her body seems to recognize him as male and flinches. (And that hurts worse than being shot.)

And at the end of the song, she wakes up and _melts_ against him, body nearly boneless with relief that it is him.

He hates that his mind can connect the dots, that he can _guess_ what had happened to her. She didn't tell him about her childhood, but he sees enough of the depravity of humanity in his occupation that hers aren't uncommon symptoms.

"Vongola is holding a fair tomorrow," he murmurs into her hair. "I think there are things for sale that you would like."

She manages a small smile. "We should bring Teddy. He likes to get new colors to change his hair into."

He rubs a hand down her spine and she gives a low laugh.

.

* * *

.

The nightmares don't happen frequently, but they do happen. You could only sleep with someone for so long before you can recognize their sleeping habits.

Her nightmares didn't happen often, but they did happen when she had an upsetting day.

Teddy's arrival seemed to have unearthed all her fears and kindled her nightmares.

He soothes her worries away and tries not to get into jobs that would wake _his_ nightmares. The last thing they needed for both of them to have night terrors, and his are the destructive sort.

.

* * *

.

"Would you like to go to a fair?" she asks Teddy in the morning.

Teddy doesn't even hesitate to say yes. He is already going away to fetch his scarf, covering half of his face and making him nearly unrecognizable.

"Well, that was enthusiastic," she remarks.

Reborn chuckles. "He's a child. A fair means new toys for him. And with you there, he doesn't even worry."

Hyacinth agrees on his point, even if her eyebrows wrinkle. She had become a sort of security blanket for Teddy and it makes her frown. Teddy still totes his reinforced toy gun around but he liked to hide behind her best.

.

* * *

.

The fair, like all Vongola sponsored things, is mafia related.

Most of all the really bright and colorful people are there and that somehow makes Reborn's fingers twitch with need for his gun.

Hyacinth forgets her worries and laughs, perusing scarf's and dresses and having a debate with Teddy over the merits of Vanilla ice cream versus Chocolate.

And Reborn eventually relaxes when he spots his students in the distance creating a ruckus and disrupting the peace of people's lives. The Varia are there too, and suddenly there are screams and shouts, but nobody pays that any mind. It's a common thing when the all of the Vongola are gathered.

So of course that's when the masked men arrive.

.

* * *

.

There are screams of laughter and joy and then there are screams of terror.

Hyacinth differentiates between both immediately and pushes Teddy beneath a salesman's table, telling him to pull out his gun and keep calm.

The rest of the populace react too slow and Hyacinth is already pulling out the sword of Gryffindor to whack at anybody hostile when they do realize what is happening.

She blesses Reborn when he is suddenly there, gun ready in his hand and eyes sharp.

"Teddy?" he asks.

"Table," she answers, ducking beneath a punch and slicing a man, the sword cleaving through flesh, bone and muscle like a heated knife over butter. "Who?"

Reborn throws a chair at someone harassing a woman and kicks away a piece of rubble like it is a rubber ball, hitting another masked man on the head. "Idiots," he grunts.

Hyacinth decides she doesn't like slicing people and resorts to cutting off limbs, taking off feet and hands easily, the sword swinging into a rhythm.

A man too far away is picking up a child and the boy screams. Hyacinth doesn't hesitate and throws her weapon, spearing through him easily.

"Haya," Reborn starts, before cutting himself off when she pulls out a frying pan out of her handbag. "Why do you have a frying pan?"

She moves faster, the clanging sounds of frying pan meeting skulls reverberating throughout the rapidly emptying fare grounds.

"You never know when you need one," she says.

.

* * *

.

It is hard to protect someone.

Anybody can attest to that. That is why there is something called teamwork, because people watch each other's backs, so there is no need for protecting. Everyone is merely moving forward together.

Hyacinth should have remembered.

.

* * *

.

It is the rapidly fluctuating magic that catches her attention, and then Teddy's cries.

Someone had snuck up on her, because it is only Reborn and Hyacinth and no one else. And they are so obviously protecting something.

Vongola is a couple of tables down and such a very powerful force with no weaknesses. Of course they went to what they had deemed as the weak link.

Calling Reborn weak is asking for trouble but Hyacinth is unknown.

They struck and Teddy cries, little toy gun having taken down a few before being picked up and tossed away.

Hyacinth's magic reacts and her eyes flare. She moves, wrist deftly banging heads and aiming to bash skulls in instead of knocking people unconscious. Reborn moves in tandem beside her, hands aiming for her would be attackers and knocking them down before they could do any damage.

But it is difficult to watch everything.

There is a stinging bite to her neck and Reborn shouts angrily, Sun Flames coating his bullets as he shoots faster.

She falls, eyes fluttering shut.

.

* * *

.

Teddy _screams_ and there is an explosion of magic.

Everybody is knocked unconscious, but it is too late and Hyacinth is taken.

.


	39. Wrath

Hyacinth knows she is unconscious.

She could feel her body slumbering, her heart rate slow and rhythmic. Her blood flow is constant and unchanging.

The drug they had placed in her blood stream is making her magic fluctuate wildly. It is reacting to her mind, the only thing they could not touch with their drugs. Her magic, after all, instinctively protected her mind.

A wizard would not have used drugs and besides, they would have already fled at the feel of her magic flickering and bursting all over the place.

Magic is not a tool, or something like a constant, unending river. It is part of a wizard's very being like an organ. At the moment, it was reacting to her uneasy anger.

Hyacinth pushes out and her magic responds. Bit by bit, the drug is weaned from her system.

Her motor control is still weak, but her lips form a small smirk.

.

* * *

.

Reborn knows he is angry.

His flames are all but simmering beneath his skin, waiting for him to _ask_ and it would burst out. His control is too good for any accidents.

But he has to think of others, like a wailing Teddy.

Thankfully, Haru takes care of it, drawn to a child like a moth to light.

"Reborn," Tsuna starts. "Shoichi is tracking them. Spanner managed to tag some while he was pretending to be unconscious."

He acknowledges that and checks his gun for bullets and his pockets for spare ammo. Not that he would need them. He would tear them with his bare hands if he could.

Absently, he wonders if he should contact Hyacinth's friends. He checks the sky and disregards that. There are no owls nearby. It would be near impossible to contact them.

A buzz near his ear alerts him to the return of one of his beetles.

They're alive and whispers secrets to him. Reborn feels his spine going even straighter.

He cocks his gun and stalks away, ignoring his student calling for his name.

.

* * *

.

When the explosions start, Hyacinth could manage to sit up. She doesn't try that because it would make them know she was awake, but she knows it because her hands are in her control and nothing trembles or does spasms. She is tired but capable.

There is a sudden mad scrambling for her room and it is suddenly filled with her captors. And then, before Hyacinth can decide whether to inform them that she is awake, someone grabs her shoulders and settles something thin and cold on her neck.

It's so obviously a knife and she doesn't know whether to laugh or to cry. They're really just making things worse for them.

.

* * *

.

"S-stop," the idiot stutters, holding a knife to Hyacinth's throat. "Or I'll kill her."

Reborn narrows his eyes. Hyacinth blinks at him sleepily, fingers curling into a countdown. She doesn't even look worried.

Her pointer finger curls into her fist and both of them explode into action.

Hyacinth stomps down on her captors's foot her hands dash to hold the knife, nails raking down his hand.

Reborn's hands wrist blur into motion, the sound of a gunshot sounding like a continuous thing. A normal gun would have overheated but Reborn had pushed past the boundaries of guns before. They emit from the nozzle like yellow lasers, speed spurred on by Sun Flames.

It helps his temper and he walks on several fingers, an expression of extreme satisfaction on his face.

And then Hyacinth knees the man on the nuts.

.

* * *

.

"Annoying," she mutters. "Very ridiculously stupid man. Drugs!"

Reborn holds her by the elbow cautiously. "Are you alright?" he asks.

She stomps down one last time, making the man howl on the floor and Reborn wince.

"No," she growls. "I am not alright! Really! If that thing had hit Teddy, he would have died. His magic is not as experienced as mine, and he's only a child."

He looks as ferocious as she feels. "They nearly overdosed you?" he hisses.

"Not nearly!" she yells. "They so did! If I wasn't a witch, I would be dead!"

.

* * *

.

There are things that men wouldn't do to other men. Such as kicking them in the family jewels. That was a sacred rule.

Some rules aren't sacred in the face of hurting his lover. Reborn turns a blind eye and a deaf ear to the whimpers and pleas coming from the Don of the newer famiglia's that had sprung up from Russia. He hides his reactions to it and calls his Dame-Student.

With the affirmation of Hyacinth's good health, the next thing to think about is Teddy.

The whimpers suddenly cut off and Reborn turns around to see the Don unconscious, having fainted at the sight of a barbed steel wire Hyacinth had conjured.

"That's it," Reborn calls to her. "Love, if he gets too damaged, Tsuna won't be able to get anything out of him."

Hyacinth glares at the insensible man but obligingly goes over to him.

.

* * *

.

"Where's Teddy?" she asks.

Reborn points to Haru, who is pulling costumes out of pockets too small to hold them. She dresses up Teddy and the boy happily wears them, even the bowler hat that makes Hyacinth cringe.

"Teddy!" Hyacinth calls. "Teddy!"

The metamorph jumps up and starts running towards her.

"Haya!" he cries, his hug strong enough that it knocked the breath out of her. "You're here!"

She smiles, hugging him back just as hard. "I'm alright. Were you very worried? I'm sorry."

Teddy shakes his head. "Teddy was scared when Haya went away. But Reborn pat Teddy on head and Teddy knows Reborn will find Haya."

Hyacinth's belly felt warm with affection for the boy. She had worried that it would aggravate his fear of people, but it didn't. He already trusted Reborn implicitly.

.

* * *

.

The bodies, living and dead, had been retrieved and the cries of "What the hell!" and "Oh my God!" had started to sound out.

Reborn ignores the incredulous and slightly awed looks shot his way, making a beeline straight to the two most important people in his life.

"I don't know about you," he drawls. "But I am dying to take a shower."

Hyacinth readily agrees with him, ruminating about setting Mippy to mix some dough. Teddy is already asleep in her arms.

"Yeah," she remarks, smile as gentle as possible. "Kicking down people really make me feel unclean."

Before they could apparate away, a Vongola lackey hurriedly trots to them bearing the Sword of Gryffindor and the Frying Pan. Oddly enough, he holds the Frying Pan with more reverence than the glittery, shiny sword of Gryffindor.

"Thank you," she says to the lackey.

The lackey looks awed and wondering, like he'd just been greeted by the Vongola Decimo himself.

Reborn tugs on her hand impatiently and they vanish with a pop.

.

* * *

.

"People really like my frying pan, don't they?" she asks Reborn in the shower.

Reborn laughs, voice deep and low. "I don't think they were looking at the frying pan, love." His hands trace a pattern on her back and everything else fades.

.


	40. Spilling

Thankfully, the kidnapping doesn't affect Teddy all that much, except for a sudden ferocity in using his guns. Otherwise, he was still a sweet and earnest boy.

Reborn finds out the hard way that Teddy picks up things way _way_ too fast.

In one of their self-defense lessons, Teddy didn't even hesitate in kicking him in the nuts. It was only Reborn's faster reflexes that kept him from receiving it fully and he did _not_ yelp like a girl when he almost didn't block it with a hand fast enough.

Hyacinth ends up running to the kitchen more than once, unable to smother her laughter.

It would have strained relations between both too, if Reborn hadn't been so proud. He could only teach Teddy to fight, but the will to knock down opponents was something he could never teach him about.

.

* * *

.

There are, of course, consequences to being kidnapped like that.

For Hyacinth, it is in the sudden trembling of her hands. Her dreams turn into a confusing mass of fear and helplessness. It's not dreaming so much as drowning in despair.

She ends up awake before even the sun rises and nursing a cup of tea, staring out into her garden, or sometimes expressing something with art.

Reborn is a saint.

He holds her when she trembles so much that anything she holds is in danger of being dropped or broken and he sometimes keeps her company when he wakes with her.

Hyacinth loves him so much that it lances through her like a burning arrow with every breath she took.

.

* * *

.

Her shakes and terrors are at an impasse with Reborn's gentle handling.

So one morning, when dawn was only an hour or two away and Reborn had enough energy to wake with her, Hyacinth puts down her cup of tea and speaks.

Teddy is asleep and the darker things are somehow inappropriate to speak about in his innocent presence.

.

* * *

.

"Reborn," she says softly. "I – I did tell you there was a war back then, didn't I?"

She didn't but Reborn's frightening intellect had picked up bits and pieces, putting together answers and not liking what he had concluded at all.

He nods. "So you said to me once," he says.

His voice calms her down and she stares into the swirling dregs of her cup of tea. It is the herbal kind, naturally grown and it scented the air with crisp cleanliness.

"I was captured," she continues. Her eyes are far away and her voice is sad and distant. "Along with Hermione and Ron. We were on the run, hunted to death. Me, because of something I did before I could even remember, Hermione, for simply being born and Ron, because he loved me like a sister and loved Hermione more than anything in the world."

An image is painted in his mind. Three teenagers running for their lives. His gut clenched but he kept his silence. His lover looks like a single touch could shatter the balance she desperately tried to achieve.

"But we couldn't run forever," she whispers and it sounded like the clanging of a closing iron gate. "And we were caught. We escaped through _sheer_ luck, but with heavy damage. Hermione was tortured almost to insensibility. Ron was locked in a cage next to her, almost driven mad listening to her scream. And I…I was made to drink something." Her slender artist's fingers made an aborted movement towards her throat. "I don't remember much about it, but Ron told me that I screamed. Whatever I drank made me shiver and moan with pain, everything hurting me so much that they didn't know how to help me."

He clenches his hands under the table, finger nails puncturing his palms. He didn't make a sound or any other movement to show his rage.

"Fleur eventually realized that I was drugged with a potion that increased my senses to the point of pain," she says. And then she shudders. "She told me it was something that the whores in France used sometimes when their customers wanted them responsive. But I was overdosed."

Hyacinth breathes, a slow calm puff of air. It is an exhalation of burdens, a release without words.

"I suppose some things really can't be forgotten," she sighs, downing the last of her tea and standing up wearily. "Even if I thought it was all behind me now."

.

* * *

.

Reborn walks on eggshells around her for the whole day.

It makes Hyacinth sad, because while it felt good to finally share some of her darker secrets (the first person she had ever told too), it felt terrible to look to her lovers face for comfort only to find him looking at her with unreadable eyes. Even his shoulders are no clue to her.

It breaks her heart a little.

.

* * *

.

"Haya," Teddy states in a matter of fact voice. "Why are you not looking at Reborn?"

Hyacinth jerks out of her chair, glancing at Reborn reflexively before looking away again.

"I am looking at him," she says softly. "Why do you say that, Teddy-luv?"

The metamorphagus scrunches his nose at her. "You always talk to Reborn, Haya. Or maybe give him goo-goo eyes. Are you angry at Reborn, Haya?"

The question surprises her.

Angry? Is she angry with Reborn? She really isn't, even if she had unknowingly acted like it.

She shrugs at the boy, managing a small smile. "No, Teddy-luv. I am not angry at Reborn," she says. "But he may be angry at me."

Reborn makes an aborted movement with his hands. "No, I'm not," he says, speaking in her direction for the first time since she told him their capture at the Malfoy Manor.

Teddy slides out of the chair and brings his plate with him. Reborn's hand is warm and heavy on her thighs.

A five year old is trying to help fix her relationship problems.

Merlin damn it.

.

* * *

.

Her lover is a hitman, she knows that. She forgets in moments like these, when his hands are gentle around her and he is heat and comfort.

Unwashed dishes are pushed to the side. He puts her on the counter-top with ease that brings delicious shivers down her stomach.

She shudders as his large, calloused hands run down her back, sensitive fingers tracing silvery scars with precision.

"I am not angry at you," he says, though the words take a while to filter through the haze of security and lethargy blanketing her. "But I had to control my temper lest I break something."

She blinks at him. "But, why are you angry?" she asks.

It is honest confusion and another flash of rage ignites in his eyes at the question, though his hands remain gentle.

"That you have to ask that question," he mutters. He drops his head and noses her neck, inhaling her scent.

Hyacinth doesn't understand. She ignores that as she basks in the feeling of protection he offers her, content in knowing that Reborn had heard one of the darkest parts of her life and didn't turn away.

.

* * *

.

Teddy turns curious eyes towards the kitchen when there is no shouting, or breaking plates.

He gives Mippy a confused look, to which the House-elf just shrugs, and then continues berating him for ignoring his vegetables.

.


	41. Challenge

The concept of sharing implies a mutual trust in both parties and the willingness to give. Sharing is not just done by one person. That would just be giving. To share, giving must be done by two people, _equally_ and without any reservations.

Equally.

How does one equate experiences? There is no weighing scale for it.

With secrets as heavy and painful as theirs, as old as his and as _torturous_ as hers, there is no weighing scale.

He wishes there was, to make this easier.

.

* * *

.

He doesn't mean to start it. Like all things that both of them have made tradition, like evening readings by the kitchen table, or dawn vigils with tea (or in his case, coffee) it starts off with little things.

.

"I'm going to the Giglio Nero Famiglia today," he announces softly, for her ears only. "Anything you want me to bring back?"

She pauses in the act of doling out food to Teddy. "Giglio Nero…that's Yuni's famiglia, isn't it?"

"Headed by her mother," he corrects her.

Hyacinth's eyes gleam with interest. It is obvious that she has a lot of questions, like why Yuni is treated with so much respect that it people thought she was the boss.

"Later," she says, though it sounds like a question.

He nods. "Later."

When he gets back, she asks and he answers, telling her all about the Ten Year Bazooka and the time that he and his brats spent in a world gone insane.

.

He finds her laying flowers on one of the few pictures that clutter her workshop.

She looks at him, eyes dark and inscrutable. "It's the anniversary of my godfather's death," she says eventually.

He looks at the old, moving picture of a handsome young man. Arrogant and carelessly handsome. He turns to her and finds her looking at him with dark eyes.

"Later," he concludes and she concurs with a nod.

When she washes the paint from her hands and finally hangs up a melancholic painting of a dog howling up at the moon, she tells him of a boy who loved his friends so much that it defined the very way he lived. She tells him of a godfather who loved her so much that he died for her.

.

Reborn usually reacts to her stories by getting angry. His rage is so much more powerful and potent and he always makes an effort to stay away from his guns.

It still affects her though. Hyacinth has too many memories of her uncle in a temper for it not to affect her and she strives to stay away from Reborn when he gets in a towering rage.

It colors their relationship and she struggles not to make it so.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth usually reacts to his revelations with shock and surprise.

Being a witch, there are things you are told that must never be done and time-travel coupled with body-altering magic, is enough to shake her confidence and bring rise her fears of the darkest magic.

Different worlds with different beliefs and it takes Hyacinth a while to understand it.

.

Teddy helps.

The things that they aren't prepared to hear about, things that make Reborn unbearably angry or things that shake and shatter Hyacinth's belief of the world. All those cracks and uneven spaces, Teddy straightens out without meaning to.

Innocent faith, coupled with childishly honest logic make them face each other without shattering.

It never fails to work, when they are faced with the question of, "But don't you like him? Reborn is still Reborn."

With such statements, it strengthens their faith in each other, as well as their love for the lovely, sweet boy.

.

* * *

.

Naturally, after such adjustments have been made, Fon visits and cannot help but note it.

"You seem," he says hesitantly. "Happier."

Hyacinth beams at him as she pours him tea. "Am I?" she sighs, thinking of Reborn's gentle hands and the sweetness of his gestures. "Reborn's been really sweet."

Fon seems to have a difficulty equating "Reborn" with "sweet". His mild, Asian face looks constricted.

"Is he?" he manages to put out. "I was under the impression that Reborn treated women like trash because he could."

She chokes on her tea. This is something she had noticed from Fon early in their acquaintance. He honestly spoke what was on his mind and he absolutely had no tact.

"Fon!" she complains, wiping at her blouse with a napkin.

He just quirks his eyebrow, completely unaware of what he had done.

.

* * *

.

Scolding Fon is like scolding a cat that kept eating the goldfish and didn't understand why you got angry every time.

Hyacinth eventually washes her hands off it and goes back to enjoying his company. No matter how annoying he got, once you ignored his words and focused that he really was well-meaning, Fon was great company for tea.

Reborn has the misfortune of coming back just in time to hear one of his comments and Fon ducks his head a quarter of a millimeter to save himself. It doesn't save her colored windows but Hyacinth just sighs, well used to collateral damage, living in a house with a Hitman and little Teddy who used his toy guns seriously.

"Both of you," she mutters. "Need to cool your heads."

.

* * *

.

Reborn had refrained from using his guns when she still had her apartment. Finding out that she is equally capable makes him relax. He knows it won't hurt her.

The way she treated him should have clued him enough. Not many civilian women could outrun him or treat him with casual nonchalance even after seeing him work.

Though watching her work her magic is probably one of the reasons why Teddy keeps breaking the vases. Reborn doesn't do anything quite as immature. He is a hitman and he has his pride.

.

* * *

.

"Tsunayoshi-kun would like to invite the both of you to the Annual Vongola Picnic," Fon announces when Reborn's temper is close to boiling over.

Hyacinth doesn't mind it so much anymore. Constant exposure had desensitized her. It helped that Reborn never raised a hand against her.

"A picnic!" she exclaims. "How lovely!"

"Who's invited?" her lover immediately asks, eyes wary and suspicious.

Fon rattles off some names that make Reborn straighten up and tense. The Varia, the Vongola, the CEDEF, the Cavallone, the Giglio Nero and the rest of the Arcobaleno.

"Is he tempting fate?" Reborn asks, sounding very dry. "Putting all the volatile people in one place? It's like asking for a chemical explosion."

Fon laughs. "No, he's just being nostalgic. He's hosting it there, in that clearing."

Hyacinth doesn't understand, but from the bleak and terrible sadness that covers her lovers face, it must be something of great significance.

"We will go," Hyacinth announces, making Reborn look at her with surprise and Fon cough to cover his laughter.

"Really?" Reborn asks. "You don't know what you're getting into."

She just smirks at him in challenge.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth really knows him well enough to realize he is covering something up.

She comes back down the stairs after putting Teddy back to bed and thumps a bottle of firewhisky in front of him.

"Drinking contest," she says firmly. "And no, don't say I'm a lightweight. Magic helps me."

He knows that it is merely a cover up and she's trying to make him feel better of being reminded of his students' demise in that bleak and broken future. He appreciates it anyway, because not just anyone could read his moods accurately.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" he asks.

She grins and pours them a shot.

.


	42. Practice

One of Hyacinth's greatest skills is imitation and pretention.

Reborn sometimes believes that his lover is a socialite, when in fact it is the opposite. It is easy to forget how years of loneliness will affect ones social interaction. Reborn remembers it in full force when she says, "What does one do at a picnic?"

He blinks at her in surprise, but is careful not to actually show it.

"Well," he says slowly, because in those old invitations, Reborn had always arrived late, caused chaos with only a few well-chosen words and then left as everything fell to pieces.

_What does one do at a picnic?_

"Eat food," he starts, thinking about the setting and the expenses incurred afterwards. Discounting property damage, there was always food expense. "Enjoy the scenery and talk to people, I suppose."

Her eyebrows wrinkle. "So...it's like a party?"

"An informal party," he corrects promptly, because he finally recalls the word from the dictionary. "Usually there would be games involved."

She nods, like his words are the gospel truth.

Then she pauses. "Reborn, all those people that Fon said. How many people are attending this picnic?"

A dread coldness slithers down his spine as he realizes what his lover is getting at.

"It would be almost fifty people, give or take a few. Most probably more than fifty. A lot of those people are bosses of their respective famiglias. Moving around on their own is highly unlikely."

Ah, this is one of the reasons why he had gone drinking. (Never mind that Hyacinth, once drunk, turned into such a cuddly, sweet creature.) He doesn't want to even think about what damage such number of people will do to the park. Never mind littering or improper waste disposal, the bigger risk is property damage coupled with the injuries of bystanders.

Bah! It's not his problem.

Hyacinth taps her lips in thought.

"I might as well bring something," she says eventually. "How does apple pie and chocolate chip cookies sound like to you? Or maybe I should do crumpets instead…"

Reborn resolutely does not drool at the mention of her baking.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth starts baking en masse.

This isn't her style of baking that is half-hazard and done with whatever caught her fancy, which is usually just as good. It is the style of a general going to war, obsessively counting apples and laying out baking sheets.

Reborn escapes to the garden after the first order of, "Reborn, can you peel this apple? And while you're at it, can you also put them out in bowls? Lay out the cinnamon and the sugar."

From experience, he knows that once he stays there long enough, she would have him slaving away for the whole day. Hyacinth was particularly good with using, "while you're at it."

To his amusement, Teddy is out there as well, a tired expression on his face. At the moment, his hair is imitating Reborn's and his eyes are a lovely, familiar shade of green.

"You too, _bambino_?" he asks.

Teddy shakes his head adamantly. "Mippy says to Teddy, 'Young master Teddy cleans room and toys!' and then Teddy find himself cleaning room. Mippy went away to help Haya, so Teddy go away to rest."

Reborn stifles his amusement, even if he has to breathe really hard to do so. The boy's put upon face is very cute.

"Your _madrina_ is waging war in the kitchen," Reborn says to the young boy. "Now, how far have you gotten with long distance shooting?"

Both of them escape to Reborn's shooting range eagerly.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth surfaces from the kitchen nearing sunset and looks around in confusion when she finds it too quiet.

"Mippy – " Hyacinth starts. "Do you know where…"

Mippy is frowning at a particularly stubborn stain where a bit of cinnamon had caught fire. "Master Reborn is with Young master Teddy in the place where things fly very fast."

Hyacinth ponders that descriptive phrase and grins when she realizes what Mippy meant. Place where things fly very fast, indeed.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth ducks through branches and weaves her way through some hanging vines.

An enchanted, magical forest is exactly that, enchanted. It grows out of control the moment it is planted and has its own personality.

Luckily, it likes her well enough and allows her passage, even if it teases her legs with some vines and tickles her cheeks with stray blossoms.

And then she has to duck really fast to avoid the stray pellet from Teddy's misfire.

The boy notices where it went and wilts under her stern stare.

"Sorry Haya," he mumbles.

Hyacinth pats him on the cheek to let him know that it was alright and turns to look at her sheepish lover.

His sleeves are rolled to his arms and he is drenched in sweat. It makes for a distracting sight and she looks away quickly. The arse probably knows it too and is flaunting it.

"What on earth are you two doing?" she eventually manages to ask.

Reborn gives a low chuckle that does funny things to her stomach. "Practice, _amante_. He's getting better though, he just keeps forgetting to factor in the wind."

Hyacinth wants to gape. "Reborn, he's factoring in wind resistance?" she asks.

She wants to point out that that requires spatial analysis and some experience in calculating wind resistance. Then she realizes that, because Reborn expects it, Teddy tries his best to do so. Pushing himself to his limits is only good for him.

"Oh Merlin," she sighs. "Just make sure he doesn't strain himself."

Both of them nod at her.

"Now," she continues, putting the matter behind her. "I have some experimental batches of treacle tart. Who wants to try some?"

Both of them store their guns so fast that Hyacinth just blinks for a moment and she misses it.

"What are you waiting for?" Reborn demands. "Hurry up!"

Teddy tugs at her hands urgently. "C'mon, Haya. Reborn eats fast!"

.

* * *

.

"When's the picnic?" Hyacinth asks Reborn after they put Teddy to bed.

Reborn tugs her impatiently to the bed. "Tell you later. Come here!" he says.

With a laugh, she rolls over him, her long black hair making a small curtain of privacy.

His eyes look at her with dark, heavy intensity and it makes shivers go down her spine.

"I'm here," she whispers.

He looks at her like she would vanish if he made the wrong gesture. His long elegant hands move achingly slowly towards her face. "So you are," he murmurs.

Reborn's fingertips sketch her eyes, her nose and her lips. Were it another man, she would call it tentative. But it's Reborn and he is only wary of hurting her. His hands that could dole out such destruction were afraid of hurting her.

"I don't break you know," she adds. Her eyes never leave his. "Hold me, my love."

His takes in a shuddering breath. "You're a demanding little thing, aren't you?" he whispers.

She allows herself a smirk. She lowers her body on his slowly. "Oh, I demand alright," she agrees. "After all, you can take it."

His pupils dilate and he inhales sharply, moving so quickly that she only knew she was on her back because he was caging her.

"Was that a challenge?" he queries softly. It sounds delicious to her ears.

She raises her chin, fire alight in her eyes. "What do you think?"

With a growl, he lowers his head.

.

* * *

.

Doing one last inspection of the Mistress's House, Mippy pauses at the thrums of happiness coming from her Mistress.

Mippy smiles and locks the door to the Master Bedroom in order to prevent any accidental peeks in the morning of young eyes.

"Good night, my lady," she says, before snapping her fingers and extinguishing all the lights.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extended Chapter 42, with the smut, is in my tumblr


	43. Distance

Hyacinth is still occasionally surprised by Teddy in the mornings, especially on previous nights when she doesn't get enough sleep.

She freezes for a second before she registers the small, wriggling body between her and her lover as her godsons and she sighs. She meets Reborn's amused eyes over a teal head and smiles.

"Good morning," she greets.

Teddy's head surfaces from the blankets and he shakes it off like water. "Gu'mornin', Haya!" he exclaims happily. "Picnic today! Picnic!"

Reborn just raises an eyebrow even as he responds to her greeting as well.

With another sigh, Hyacinth scoops up the boy from the bed and stands up, headed for the bathroom. "Yes, it's today. You have to calm down, it's not until lunchtime."

His pout is adorable and Hyacinth doesn't stand a chance against it.

.

* * *

.

Reborn is dressed and pristine by the time Hyacinth emerges with a squeaky clean Teddy. His messy head of spikes is slicked back and dripping wet, having used the shower in the other bedrooms to get done.

He is sipping a cup of Mippy-made espresso and demolishing a stack of waffles dripping in cream and blueberry jam.

The cold water had worked wonders otherwise she would have blinked blearily at him like a sleepy bear.

"Hello," she murmurs, planting a kiss on his lips and swiping a bit of jam that had smeared from the side of his mouth. His indignant look made Teddy giggle.

"Thief," he responds. "Your house-elf has everything ready. No need to panic and dash around."

Hyacinth scowls at him. "I do not panic, nor dash around," she protests, dumping Teddy on a chair.

Reborn exchanges a look with Teddy that says everything.

.

* * *

.

"Is everything there?" she asks Mippy, hands wringing.

"Yes Mistress," Mippy responds without a longsuffering tone. "The pies, the tarts, the cookies and your experimental batch of strawberry jam."

Mippy casts Reborn a wide-eyed pleading look behind Hyacinth's back.

He must have been getting soft because he actually opens his mouth and says, " _Amante_ , leave it be. If you leave anything, I'm sure Tsunayoshi will have the caterers bring something."

It is the wrong thing to say, he realizes belatedly. Hyacinth never agrees in doing things half-heartedly. That is also his maxim, but in this case, it is working against him.

She is getting a second breath to start her rant and he walks forward and kisses her.

Problem solved, he thinks as she melts against him. Hyacinth relaxes and finally forgets about the party. Why she was nervous is beyond him.

.

* * *

.

The wide, grassy knoll situated on the top of the hill is the perfect place to host a picnic.

Hyacinth is delighted at the scenery and her fingers actually itch to draw it.

Fortunately, they are one of the earlier people to arrive, and Hyacinth's basket that strangely held so much more than it was supposed to was unnoticed.

The picnic tables are near the tree line and the top of the hill is bare.

"Go on," he tells her, well aware of what the glazed look in her face meant. "I'll take care of it."

She laughs and accepts the sketchpad and the pencil Mippy gives her a second later.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth blinks away her artistic stupor and finds that she has drawn the entire clearing, right down to the rustling grass and the laughing mixture of colorful people.

She looks around and stifles a squeak when she realizes that there is a group around her, mostly women, looking at her work with wonder.

"Eh," she says when they all look at her. "Hello."

Yuni dashes forward and holds Hyacinth's hands. "That is brilliant," she says. "Absolutely lovely. And you didn't notice when everyone started arriving."

Hyacinth laughs sheepishly. "Sorry. I do that sometimes." Only rarely, and only because she knew Reborn was watching over her.

They all surround her then and Hyacinth is introduced to the ones she doesn't know. There is Haru, Kyoko and Hana, all Japanese and very beautiful. Lal Mirch and Yuni, along with some other women with herb names. There is shy Chrome who flits around the edges like a wisp, listening to their conversation with a small smile.

They end up talking about clothes and food, Hyacinth preening when they realized she was the one who brought all the apple pies, the tarts and the cookies.

It all stutters to a halt when a woman with pink hair walks past and gives Hyacinth the politest, most painful greeting in the world.

.

* * *

.

"Good afternoon," she greets.

All conversation in the laughing, women only table grinds to a halt.

"Uhm," Hyacinth manages. "Good afternoon. I'm Hyacinth – "

The woman nods, face like a supermodel and Hyacinth finally, _finally_ remembers why she is familiar. "I know," she interrupts. "I looked into you."

Hyacinth really doesn't know how to deal with a woman who is terribly, obviously in love with her lover. She sighs and just decides to bugger it and leave all to the Potter Luck.

"So," Hyacinth says. "Did what you find satisfy you?"

The woman clenches her hands. "No," she answers. "You don't deserve him."

Hyacinth suppressed it, but the flinch still got expressed. It is, after all, something that occurs to her some days when she feels the echoes of the war. "I beg your pardon?" she says softly. It is the voice only a scant few heard and walked away with their lives. "What right do you have to say so?"

The woman trembles. "I have every right!" she exclaims. Merlin, is it getting loud. Hyacinth twitches her fingers for a bit of volume modulation.

"Really?" she asks, cocking her head to the side. "Why do you believe that? After all, he's not _yours_."

Hyacinth finally struck a nerve and she watches with immense satisfaction as the woman reels back like she is slapped. Immediately afterwards, her conscience prods at her and she feels the immense guilt.

Apologizing goes out of the window when the woman stalks away.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth sits down with a sad sigh. "Gosh," she murmurs. "That was terrible."

She turns to see every woman in the table looking at her with wide eyes.

"That was scary," someone says. "I had no idea someone could sound that scary without holding a weapon."

Hana disagrees. "It looked to me like the pencil could double as a projectile," she muses.

To Hyacinth's surprise, the women start talking about daily tools that could double up as weapons in a pinch. But it is sweet, lovely Kyoko that surprises everyone when she says, "The Nail Gun is a very nice weapon when used properly. My brother swears by it."

Everyone blinks at her and then laughs, Hyacinth laughing with them. It just occurs to her, right then, that her life had taken the turn for the really strange when she met Reborn.

After all, it's not every day that you hear genteel and beautiful women talking about office supplies being weaponized.

.

* * *

.

The shy woman with the eyepatch, Chrome, takes her aside when the women break up and look for things to eat.

"I'm sorry about Bianchi-san," she murmurs, one large purple eye looking up at Hyacinth earnestly. There is an echo of a British accent in her voice, but it is overshadowed by some bits of Japanese accent and some Italian brogue slipping through.

"I wouldn't say it's alright," she says after a moment. "But I've never really experienced what happened earlier. I find it a learning experience."

Chrome shakes her head emphatically. Some bits of Hyacinth not preoccupied with the conversation coo at her adorable face. "No," she says. "Bianchi-san is always obsessed with Reborn. Hayato-kun says it's a side effect of when she was still a young assassin. Reborn saved her life, and it seemed her flames latched on to his."

_Flames?_

Hyacinth nods because she really doesn't understand. She mentally tacks another question to be asked to her lover _later._

Speaking of…

Hyacinth looks around and finally spots him, perched on a bench and nursing a bottle of cold beer and hoarding a plate of cookies zealously.

His dark eyes meet hers and he quirks an eyebrow.

'Later,' she mouths.

He nods and his eyes dart around the clearing again, doing a simple, efficient sweep.

.


	44. Vantage

Fortunately for Reborn's peace of mind, trouble _doesn't_ come from his lover.

Instead, it comes from the cow brat. (Though he was no longer five, he's still a brat.)

Reborn perches on his tree stump and nurses his cold beer, watching the slowly emerging chaos with sadistic glee when his dame student tries to contain chaos and fails.

Fon approaches him with steak and fries, and both of them end up assigning points to whoever causes the most damage to the – what used to be pristine – park.

"Two points," Fon says when Hayato's bombs go off by Takeshi's feet. "That one tore up some grass and dug up an animal's burrow."

Reborn nods in agreement. "Four points," he points out. "That would take some years to recover." Squalo had torn down some trees in swinging around his sword. Unprofessional brat.

Xaxnus finally perks up from his alcoholic slump and takes aim. Immediately, Tsunayoshi jumps in the fray instead of just sitting in the sidelines. That makes several other Guardians, who had merely been standing in the sidelines, join in. Namely Mukuro and Hibari.

"Eight points," both men recite in unison. The explosion had shaken the entire hill.

It is happy thing that Hyacinth is preoccupied by the _strangest_ group in the world, or else Reborn would be among those tearing up grass, trees and hill.

.

* * *

.

He isn't the only one watching when Byakuran Gesso, Skull of the Arcobaleno and Hyacinth end up together, discussing something that involves a lot of giggling and tart representations.

He also isn't the only one staring with unnerved fascination when the trio looks towards Xanxus and end up laughing uncontrollably.

"That has to be the strangest grouping in the world," Oregano remarks beside him.

Turmeric agrees. "Very much so. None of them even have anything in common."

.

* * *

.

It isn't anything too sinister, though people's imagination's had probably overworked themselves when Byakuran approached Hyacinth – all but ambushed her – with a laughing face.

"So, Hyacinth~" he greets. "I heard you managed to make Xanxus drunk?"

Hyacinth laughs a little, though it is a tad confused.

"According to Squalo," she agrees. "He nearly bit my head off. He looked rather put out about it too, I wonder why?"

The albino cackles. "Do you want to see?"

It takes a mixture of magic, magic of the Mare Sky-ring and the blood of a passing, bewildered former-Cloud Arcobaleno that they see the image of a drunk and cuddly Xanxus.

"Oh my gosh," Skull squeaks, eyes wide and disbelieving. "That really can't be true?"

Hyacinth has no breath, too busy laughing to answer him. Byakuran is looking so pleased with himself that he resembles Hayato's cat after it had eaten all the cream in the kitchen.

The image trapped by a circle of tarts is a strange picture of the Varia head, cheeks red and cuddling a murderously angry Squalo.

After a beat, Skull breaks down giggling too.

.

* * *

.

They wind up egging each other on, partly due to the pleasant atmosphere with the soundtrack of explosions and the occasional scream and partly due to the bubbly drinks that a passing Varia underling gets them.

Byakuran uses his ring to show them what would happen in a world where Reborn is born a girl (only one world, sadly) and Hyacinth almost dies at how vain the female version of her lover is.

"Oh Merlin," Hyacinth gasps. "Is that?"

The tart-bordered vision is that of a woman, sharp cheekbones, delicate structure all throughout and a cascade of black curls. The dress is red and low-cut, something Hyacinth wouldn't wear for love or money. The woman then sneers and it is such a familiar expression that she and Skull recognize it immediately.

"Please change it!" he pleads with a slightly green face to the grinning Byakuran. Hyacinth can't say anything else, face down on the table and giving weak giggles.

Another vision comes through, a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, wearing a familiar bandanna and dressed in a skimpy version of a military camouflage. Skull falls backwards, howling with laughter.

Byakuran laughs then and it should be an ominous sound in any other setting.

There is then a variety of other images coming through, different probabilities where Reborn was the head of a Mafia famiglia (it was scarily efficient and actually stifled their laughter.) where Tsunayoshi is born a girl and end up with a harem of men or one where things were just so insane and ridiculous that it is a miracle that they could still breath from laughing.

When they are finally winding down and the drinks and the food have run out, Reborn comes up to Hyacinth, holding her elbow to steady her and trying not to make her plant her face on the grass.

Hyacinth takes one look at his irritated face and breaks down again.

.

* * *

.

"What have you been up to?" he asks, face amused.

He tries to make her sit up properly but it is like straightening out a wet noodle. He eventually gives up and lets her lean against him, fingers entwining and breathes mingling.

"It was fair funny," she says slowly. "But, now that I think about it, there are so many ways my life-our lives could have gone wrong, wasn't there?"

Reborn tries to look at her, but moving would dislodge her and he is loath to make her move when she is so comfortable.

"It's no use bothering over what-if's," he says. "I don't really care about it."

His hands stroke her hair and that is a statement in itself, since he doesn't really like being so tactile.

 _No matter what, I'm glad to have met you_ , his hands say.

.

* * *

.

In the end, it is only when the Ten Year Bazooka makes an appearance that things go nuts. Reborn never expected it to go any differently anyway.

Little Teddy, who they have been keeping an eye on discreetly while allowing to go wild among the trees and the plants, watching him tumble down the hill happily and shrieking like a proper little boy, is the one hit.

Logically, Reborn knows that no harm would come to the _bambino_ while in the future. It doesn't reassure him. Especially not with Hyacinth clinging to his arm like it is a lifeline, looking at the cloud of pink smoke with no small amount of terror and trepidation.

The teal-haired fifteen year old that emerges looks around the clearing with confusion, and then nostalgia. It doesn't bode well for their future when the boy's green eyes (Hyacinth's green) alight on the both of them at the fringes of the picnic and color with terrible realization.

" _Madrina!"_ Teddy whispers. "You are here."

And without fanfare, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he faints.

.

* * *

.

 _His reaction says a lot of the future, one where Hyacinth isn't there,_ his mind supplies before he can shut it. _What are you going to do, Reborn?_

Without meaning to, his hands tighten their hold around her waist and she looks up at him in bewilderment.

"Reborn, what happened to Teddy?" she asks in a whisper.

He unclenches his teeth with difficulty.

"He's been switched with his ten-year-later self," he says, amazed that he sounds steady and not like the wreck he knows his mind is. "It's a technology that the Bovino's invented. Speaking of…"

He forces himself to walk away from her, hands forming into fists easily. He had a cow to beat senseless.

.


	45. INTERLUDE

It starts out like this:

Takeshi and Hayato have an argument. Squalo and the rest of his underlings in the Varia somehow get involved.

Colonnello joins in the ruckus because it looks like fun and eventually, once things go to a head, Xanxus is jolted out of being in the sidelines when his whisky is knocked down by a stray pebble.

Flames of Wrath are called to the surface and angry red eyes open, glaring death to the unfortunate Varia underling who owned that explosive that caused that pebble's trajectory.

Tsuna attempts damage control, but ends up making things worse because his involvement means the involvement of Hibari and Mukuro.

When things escalate further, the Sun Guardian of both the Varia and the Vongola get involved. The Cavallone are contemplating evacuating their boss when someone finally makes a mistake and hits the sleeping cow brat by the trees.

The Ten Year Bazooka comes out and, without pause, the sparring Mist and Cloud Guardians turn on the pink Bazooka with vehement irritation. They'd had enough of _that_ thing messing up with their lives, thank you very much.

Lambo is a competent eleven year old and his skills are finally starting to get to the point of lethal, but he's no match for an irate Rokudo Mukuro and a murderously angry Hibari Kyouya. He ducks and weaves with barely concealed panic and trips. The Bazooka fires anyway.

When it hits Teddy, Lambo feels his life flashing before his eyes and gulps in terror. His blood rushes away from his face so fast it's a miracle he did not pass out.

After a few seconds of pink smoke and a fainting Teddy Lupin finds Reborn of the Arcobaleno stalking towards the chaotic group with a purpose.

.

* * *

.

This is what Teddy sees.

He is racing around the wide open place with abandon, carefully not knocking people over because that would make them angry and just generally being a happy boy.

The little pink projectile headed his way is not really registered until it hits him over and engulfs him in smoke.

He blinks and finds himself in a strange room, with a four poster bed and several textbooks and parchments surrounding him.

He picks up one and reads the words that the letters form slowly.

"E-D-W-A-R-D. Edward!" he remarks. "That's my name."

He looks around, jumps down the bed and rummages around the little cabinet beside the bed. The hangings are all in red and gold. He doesn't like the combination.

A trunk at the bottom of the bed has a photo album and Teddy crawls to it, opening the pages with trepidation.

There is a picture of madrina and Reborn. Some pictures of Reborn's friends and madrina. Abruptly, after a certain page that is violently ripped off, madrina's pictures stop and show familiar people again, those redheads that sometimes took care of him when grandma was too busy.

It alarms him enormously when Reborn is nowhere to be found in the pictures near the end. Nor is his madrina.

"Oh," he whispers. He doesn't feel scared. He actually doesn't know how he feels, flipping back and seeing the ripped pages.

Footsteps climbing up the stairs resound and Teddy sticks to his old standby. When in doubt, hide under the bed.

A pair of feet show up by the door and a girl sounds disappointed to find the room seemingly empty.

"Teddy Lupin," he hears her growl. "If I ever catch you after you set my pigmy puff as a snitch…!"

Just when he deems her away and he crawls out of the bed, pink smoke engulfs him again and he is back in the clearing, madrina's arms around his waist and lips kissing his forehead in worry.

"Haya!" he says in a demanding voice. "Let me down."

She blinks at him several times before letting him down, smoothing away his teal-colored hair reflexively.

"Are you alright?" she asks him, voice a little funny.

He nods, looking around.

"I was in a funny place. It had a bed a four posters, and there was a girl and a picture album," he finally settles his gaze on his madrina. "Haya, are you alright?"

His madrina kisses him on the cheek and laughs shakily.

.

* * *

.

This is what Hyacinth sees.

A pink grenade shot out of an equally pink Bazooka going for her godson. Any magic she might have had is too weak or too strong to shoot it out of its trajectory. Reborn, who could have done something about it, is too surprised.

She waits for the explosion and blinks her surprise when it does not explode in fire and death, but a pink cloud of smoke and a hint of foreign magic.

A teenager is there, teal hair a dead give-away and rubbing his green eyes. His frame, she knows, is all Remus Lupin's. Gangly, all elbows and knees. The way he stood though…reminded her of Reborn.

"Reborn, what happened to Teddy?" she asks anyway. Assumptions are terrible and she would rather have cold truth.

Her lover's hands, which had tightened like a vise around her waist when Teddy fainted, loosened up a little. A muscle is jumping in his jaw.

"He's been switched with his ten-year-later self," he answers, sounding calm and composed. She wraps his calm around her. "It's a technology that the Bovino's invented. Speaking of…"

He walks away, hands fisting.

Hyacinth could understand him, just a little. Teddy's words, the way he said it. Was she not alright in that future?

She knows it is no longer _their_ future though. As soon as Reborn had mentioned time-travel, she knows it is an alternate one. Time-travelling created branches and sub-branches of reality.

Hyacinth hopes so, anyway.

Meanwhile, she contemplates fixing the Vongola punch with some aphrodisiac's. It would get her mind off it and would, hopefully, bring back the festive atmosphere of the picnic.

Though…she muses, as Teddy's older self stirs and tries to sit up. She might have to do it later.

"Teddy," she murmurs. "Are you alright? Does your head hurt?"

She pats him on the head, searching for a bump. Hyacinth tries not to cringe when the boy sniffles and then outright _weeps_ , little rivers of tears going down his cheeks.

"Haya!" he whispers softly, and that's all the warning she gets before he buries his face in her stomach.

.

* * *

.

This is what Reborn sees.

A snivelling cow-brat trying to hide behind his Sky and failing miserably.

In his peripheral vision, he is aware that Hyacinth is comforting the older version of little Teddy. He notes it but does not spare it further thought. His purpose is not to put the fear of God in the boy, but the fear of him, the World's Greatest Hitman.

"What," he starts out slowly. "Do you think you were doing, Lambo Bovino."

Perhaps what makes it more terrifying for the Lightning Guardian is the fact that Reborn is using his name properly. It had always been brat, or cow-brat or stupid Lightning.

That Reborn is using his name properly makes it all the more serious.

"E-eh," he stutters.

Reborn gives him an allowance of two minutes. The boy is only eleven and Hyacinth will hurt him if he doesn't give him a chance.

After two excruciating minutes of Lambo imitating a landed fish, he takes action and proceeds to beat the pulp out of him. It takes a bit of thought to hold back. At the edges, his two dame students are watching with worry, and then with relief when no blood is spilling.

He eventually saunters away when the brat could no longer stand, easily pretending nonchalance when Hyacinth gives him a smile that could light up several cities. She is relieved he is there and that's what soothes the raging beast in him for a moment.

Tomorrow, though, is another story entirely.

.


	46. Fashion

The festive atmosphere comes back once Tsuna shrieks loudly and flails.

Hyacinth doesn't understand but someone laughs at the faces the Vongola Decimo makes, and then all of a sudden, there is another explosion that shakes the hill, making someone else giggle.

Hyacinth glances at her lover and is concerned, though she does hide it well. His shoulders are still knotted with tension even though he is smirking. His eyes show nothing.

She holds his hand anyway and knows she is the only thing stopping him from storming out of the party.

"Five more minutes," she whispers in his ears. "And I can take you home."

His pupils dilate. "Really?" he whispers back. "And that won't offend your delicate sensibilities?"

She glares at him through her blush. "Teddy is getting tired, you pervert."

He laughs at her anyway and Hyacinth is half-tempted to storm away in a huff.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth somehow winds up with Xanxus's group and faces the interest of the Varia without paling, once she heard their occupations.

It isn't that she was really _alright_ with it. She's had enough to do with assassins in her own war, but it is a bit different in that the Varia are professionals.

She remembers insane murderers and homicidal wizards with no thought to the safety of themselves or their allies. Mafia assassins, as opposed to wizard assassins, are more powerful and somehow have more self-control.

It comforts her, that control.

.

* * *

.

"Is that a fashion statement?" she asks a giggling teenager with auburn hair covering half of his face. Hyacinth is referring to the tiara perched on top of his head, slanted side-ways and glinting in the sun.

There is a disturbing giggle.

"Bel is a Prince," he states. "And it is not fashion."

Hyacinth is interested enough to go closer and the teenager – Bel – actually draws back at her approach.

"Woman," he demands. "What are you doing?"

He stiffens and his fingers twitch once Hyacinth brushes a hand on his hair. Hyacinth notes that and readies a coil of magic in her. The rest of her is too fascinated.

The hair covering his face seems to be as immobile as cloth dipped in starch.

"That," she starts. "Is so brilliant. How is it not moving in the wind?"

Bel goes still. Hyacinth could _feel_ his stare.

"The prince could give you tips, peasant," he answers. "What will you give the prince in return?"

Hyacinth thinks about it for a moment.

"Cookies?" she offers.

The deal is struck so fast, it's a miracle she doesn't have a whiplash.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is trapped by Xanxus's wish for conversation, as well as his need for tips on how to make firewhisky even more potent.

She sympathizes. Very much.

The man seated by Xanxus's foot…not so much. He glares at her as she tells his boss that adding a bit of tequila and a dash of vodka makes the firewhisky a hundred times more powerful.

When Xanxus is finally ecstatically happy, the man speaks.

"You should not make Xanxus-sama suffer from alcohol poisoning. I know your plans, woman," he growls.

Hyacinth just stares. Because now that she is close enough to look, that is the first time she has ever seen side-burns _intentionally_ cut that way. Like, shaved that way. Into lightning bolts.

She lives with Reborn and has gotten used to _naturally_ curly side-burns.

"What are you staring at, woman?" he thunders.

Hyacinth refocuses her attention on him and finds him inches away from busting a vein.

"Your side-burns," she says honestly. "I have never seen anything shaped that way before."

Behind her, Xanxus chokes on a mouthful of firewhisky.

.

* * *

.

The Rain Guardian of the Varia drags away Reborn's exasperating woman before Levi could explode.

Not that Squalo cared. It just would take so much paperwork to replace a Lightning Guardian once Reborn killed him.

The woman willingly goes with him to the Varia group in the corner that Squalo could actually stand to talk to. Like Lussuria and Flan. Well, he couldn't actually stand Flan, but at the moment he is keeping his mouth occupied with eating.

"Hello," she greets the eccentric people camped around piles of plates. "So this is where all my treacle tarts went. Reborn was looking for some."

Squalo suppresses a full body flinch. He had long since gotten used to the more frightening people in the mafia and he wouldn't be Varia if he couldn't deal with them. But he hasn't gotten used to the woman's way of casually addressing the more powerful people in Vongola like they're common acquaintances.

"You brought these with you, honey?" Lussuria asks. "They are lovely. What secret did you place in your recipe?"

The woman beams at the Sun Guardian and starts discussing recipes.

Squalo just thanks Primo that Lussuria mellowed a little and had long since stopped rubbing the faces of people he liked on to his pectoral muscles.

Reborn's stare is a heavy, weighted thing. He's not putting any effort into making it casual or subtle. He is making everyone know that the woman is under his protection.

It is damned unnerving. It makes Squalo tempted to drag the hitman out for a spar, but he has some sense. Reborn hasn't been ousted from his Number One spot since he got ranked there by Fuuta de la Stella's parents.

To make matters worse, Flan finishes eating and opens his mouth.

"Hey shark-man," Flan says in his usual monotone. "There's a sledgehammer staring at us."

Sledgehammer is a very appropriate term for Reborn.

Squalo just wants to bang his head on the wall.

.

* * *

.

Mid-way through talking with Lussuria - who had a lovely shade dyed into his hair that Hyacinth just _adore –_ Teddy wiggles his way past the ring of Varia underlings and plops himself down into Hyacinth's lap.

She doesn't break off from talking, but she does stop once the boy doesn't say anything else. A glance down shows that he is using her lap as a pillow, the hat covering his hair a little bit askew and showing peeks of a happy sunshine yellow.

"I'm really sorry," she apologizes. "But I need to get him to bed. He becomes impossibly cranky once he wakes up outside of his bedroom."

They wave her away with hugs that are careful not to jostle the boy and wrangled promises for Hyacinth to visit the Vongola Mansion or the Varia Headquarters.

"You simply must visit, honey," Lussuria pleads. "It must be so _dreadfully_ boring to be a housewife. I don't know how you stand it."

Well. House _wife._

Hyacinth sits on the blush climbing to her face and resolutely ignores what that means.

.


	47. Rocks

Reborn investigates the conclusion he arrives at after the little clues that Future-Teddy had dropped.

He cannot help it and is nearly obsessed. Irie Shouichi would say something about his Flames making him an obsessive compulsive perfectionist asshole. Reborn doesn't really care.

Something is going to happen to his lover ten years into the future and he wants to know how it happened.

.

* * *

.

Tsuna had forbidden Lambo from using the pink Bazooka and locks it in a vault.

Not even Reborn's connections enable him to find out which. (Sometimes, he regrets training Tsunayoshi so well, especially in these instances.)

After a week and his rage and fear finally tapers off, he realizes that putting Teddy through that again will likely result in his castration, and that's not even the worst that Hyacinth could do to him.

Teddy still didn't appreciate sudden changes of location, or even new people. It had tapered off enough that he could stand to be with other people that his godmother approved, but otherwise…

He storms to Mafia Land, looking for a contract to burn off his rage.

.

* * *

.

Reborn is cool and distant after the picnic.

Hyacinth tries not to let this bother her, keeping herself occupied with the house, her art and the possibility of selling her finished pieces in an Art Show.

Rachel had contacted her about stabilizing her accounts and a steady income from commissioned pieces would do that.

She paints her worries and insecurities away and tries not to flinch when what comes out is red paint splashed through with black and dark blue.

A psychologist would have had a field day looking at the painting's she produced. Hyacinth stops painting and tries her hand at carving, something she never tried before. It is immensely time consuming and difficult.

Her mind doesn't have space to think about her distant lover at all, or the cool anger he keeps tightly leashed in her presence.

.

* * *

.

Luna visits and it is immensely good timing.

Hyacinth wants to hug the living daylights out of her friend but sticks to clasping her calloused hands energetically.

"You look tired, Haya," Luna says instead of saying hello. Her eyes are sharp as she looks at Hyacinth. "Why don't you do some gardening while I check your forest. Some of your animals might need me to look at them."

That makes Hyacinth pause a little. She had not touched her garden ever since Reborn's eyes went cold.

It is a good think Mippy is a very good house-elf and probably did it without her prompting.

"That's a good idea," she answers. She hates herself for sounding uncertain.

Luna clicks her fingers and Mippy appears with a subtle _pop_. Both of them share a look.

"Mistress shall take a long bath," the house-elf announces. "And Miss Luna will take care of everything."

.

* * *

.

The hot water does wonders to her and she almost drowns in the bathtub in her relaxed state.

Mippy hustles her down to her bedroom - _too cold, large and empty of a hitman_ \- and casts a spell to loosen her muscles further and make her moan in happiness.

"What does Mistress want to eat?" Mippy whispers when Hyacinth is almost asleep.

Unbidden, the image of Hogwarts in all its glory come back to her and she sighs out, "Treacle Tarts from Hogwarts, please Mippy."

The house-elf is too well-behaved at that unintended slight against her cooking skills but obeys anyway. The emotions that her mistress lets out from their master-servant bond is mixture of melancholy, fear and sadness.

Mippy wants to drag Master Reborn back by the heels to apologize. She settles for seething quietly in her place in the attic.

.

* * *

.

Luna walks by the forest and listens to what the forest is telling her.

No matter the caster, magic was sentient and always had a way of communicating. You just have to find a way to listen.

Hyacinth's forest tells her of Hyacinth's interesting lover, the Dark Man, the forest calls him.

They share of his coldness, what he did in his shooting range and the distinctly different gentleness that came over him whenever the Mistress walked with him.

Luna concludes that the man loved her friend very much but was probably very bad at showing it when it mattered.

"Thank you," she says. The watching animals dispersed, each one of them brushing past her as they did so.

She heads to the gardens and wonders how to scold a man who killed people for a living.

.

* * *

.

It turns out; Mippy doesn't have to do any dragging.

Reborn turns up just as Teddy is starting on his dinner.

The boy is easily affected by the atmosphere in the house and is picking on his food vegetables, valiantly ignoring the scolding looks that the house-elf keep sending him and the sighs of exasperation that Luna sends his way.

"Where is Hyacinth?" Reborn says. It is nearly a demand. His tone borders on rude and it does not falter under Luna's steady stare.

"Sleeping," Luna says in her feathery tone. "She was most upset when I arrived. I wonder why."

The look he gives her is so sharp, it could cut through glass.

"What?" he says. It is flat and unhappy. Teddy's hair turns a morose brown.

Luna flicks her eyes at Mippy and the house-elf complies, tugging the boy away from the confrontation and keeping a steady hand on the wobbling plate.

.

* * *

.

"Well?" he asks her, head tilted irritably. He is trembling and he needs to see her – to touch her and reassure him that she is still alive and well.

The flighty woman, Luna, just cocks her head to the side and regards him with wide honest eyes that sear through his soul more thoroughly than his Dame Students in his Hyper Dying Will Mode.

"What has made you so restless?" she asks instead. "You are unsettled and angry. When I met you before, you were a steady and sure rock of patience and confidence."

His shoulders tense up without his prompting.

"I'm fine," he snaps, holding back a snarl with sheer will.

She shakes her dirty blonde head sternly. "Oh no," she says, steel hidden behind her words. "I am not allowing you near my friend in that state. You'll cause her untold amount of heartache."

He fists his hands, aching to break something. " Dare to stop me, woman," he hisses.

Luna wrinkles her forehead, frowning. "Whatever gave you the idea that I would separate you from her?" she asks, a hint of irritation finally showing. "Sit down and stop shouting before you wake her up."

The information given, no matter how little, is enough to make him unwind a bit. He is no longer inches away from bursting into Sun Flames.

.

* * *

.

Luna masks her fear with irritation.

Even if she had faced Death Eaters and Voldemort with Hyacinth, she did not have her friend's foolhardy bravery, or insane luck. Luna only had herself and the unique way she thought that kept her alive.

The hitman is a different sort of danger. He is powerful and all the more dangerous because he could out a leash on it and control it. Luna thinks of Hyacinth's pale face and steels her resolve.

"You men are all the same," she says eventually when the silence had stretched on too long and she deems him calm enough. "Is what Mum Weasley says to Hyacinth. But I don't think you're like most men."

He snorts. "I should hope not," he quips.

Reborn's eyes are dark and watching her with intent. She doesn't fool herself for a second that he is calm. He just looks calm.

She ignores his words and continues with, "Hyacinth," she starts. "Grew up without stability. Went to school with the background of war around her. When I first met you, I immediately understood why she liked you. But now, if you continue to be so unsettled, she will be unhappy and leave you."

He stiffens in his seat. "Unsettled?" he says. "I am fine."

Luna wants to roll her eyes.

"No, you aren't," she disagrees. "I can feel your aura flaring around like an agitated lion cub."

The hitman snarls and throws a vase with ferocity against the wall behind her. Luna is quick to put up a silencing barrier while she struggles to remain calm in the face of a truly angry killer.

.

* * *

.

"You aren't asking me outright," he says, keeping out the vicious satisfaction out of his voice with a struggle when she tries to hide a flinch and fails. "So I will tell you."

He breathes in. "There is a family of brilliant people named 'Bovino'. They invented a device that switches the targeted person with his self from ten years into the future," he rakes a hand through his hair. "Teddy was hit in the picnic and – " he couldn't bring himself to continue.

The hitman hates it when sympathy comes into her eyes. He hates even more the wretched understanding look she sends right after.

.


	48. Probabilities

No man's fears would disappear within a night, especially not Reborn's.

His mind is a fearsome thing, capable of thinking half-a-dozen things in different paths, their possibilities and their effects at the same time within minutes.

It is working against him as he struggles to release his fears.

.

* * *

.

Luna stays and cooks them all breakfast when they wake up.

The scent makes Reborn wrinkle his nose but Hyacinth and Teddy scramble to the table eagerly. Nobody quite knew how to make a proper English Breakfast like Luna.

In the middle of the meal, Hyacinth looks tentatively towards her lover.

Reborn curses himself when he realizes why.

She was waiting for a cold brush-off.

He takes a deep breath and smiles at her. A small smile that could have been called hesitant on another man. On him, it looks slightly wary.

Hyacinth knows anyway and her breath hitches on her throat and a smile forms on her face, a true one that transforms it.

"Good morning," she whispers.

"Good morning," he says right back.

Teddy beams at the both of them.

.

* * *

.

They take a walk in the forest once breakfast is cleared away.

Teddy pouts but lets his guardian go. Luna distracts him anyway with the gifts she had forgotten to give him the day before.

The walk is filled with meaningful silence and important conversations. Mostly silence though, because Reborn isn't one to share and Hyacinth has learned patience.

.

* * *

.

"I'm sorry," he says eventually. "I-I ...my worries consumed me."

She doesn't touch him. It is more for him than for her.

"Worries?" she asks. "For the future?"

He doesn't answer but there is a muscle jumping on his jaw.

The trees rustle with Hyacinth's mood and she quiets them all with a glance.

"I notice details," he manages. "And that Teddy, no matter how you put it, grew up without you."

Her heart freezes before picking up its rhythm, a loud beat that thrums in her ears.

"What?" she whispers.

.

* * *

.

He hates answering, because it would mean sharing, it would make the words _real_.

But the look on her face is terrible and he hates himself for putting it there. He didn't deserve her.

"Every morning," he starts. "You tell Teddy to pick something to do, to settle into a pattern or to develop habits. It reflects on how he dresses himself, that discipline. He is neat and ordered. Despite the clutter you sometimes mention to him in his playroom, it never goes beyond that. It is simply clutter."

He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling.

"That Teddy didn't dress sharply," he continues. "He didn't have any spatial awareness that would have meant my training sticking to him. He didn't have the _discipline_ and the _control, amante._ A Teddy that would have grown up with you would have been used to the strange things happening to him."

One glance at her face tells him she still didn't connect the dots. He forgives her for it because he knows the emotional rollercoaster he had put her through.

" _Something_ happened to remove the boy from our care," he concludes. "Something within ten years. And I don't think either you or I are alive ten years from now. Neither of us would have stopped to get him back."

.

* * *

.

_Oh._

'So that's what it means to have your own mind working against you', Hyacinth thinks. Relief makes her mind a bit blank but she sharply reminds herself that Reborn is nearly hysterical in front of her.

Well. Not hysterical. Reborn doesn't get hysterical. Hysteria stays away from her lover.

"You should have asked me," she says. She doesn't allow herself to think about the possibilities that would take Teddy away from both of them. She is a witch. Time is their toy. Death is a research subject. Everything inevitable is something accepted. Nothing is impossible.

"Our society has done an intensive study on time-travel," she tells him pointedly. "Hermione even used a time-turner to take all her classes on Third Year. What we saw was a simple switch in a linear time-line."

He looks at her blankly and she wants to sigh in exasperation.

"Love, what we saw is the most possible course of the future," she adds. "When the switch happened, it created a sub-branch of the future, fracturing the time-line. That's probably the reason why the switch can only hold for five minutes. Any more and the person would no longer be able to go back to his time-line."

She takes hold of his hands and squeezes it. "What we saw _is no longer our future._ "

.

* * *

.

Breath that he didn't know he'd been holding is released.

He wants to laugh but that would come out shaky. He settles for engulfing her in hug and tries to quiet down his thundering heart.

Hyacinth accepts it, letting him rest against her, his forehead against her neck and his hands firm and warm on her back. His every exhale puffs against her skin and she closes her eyes to revel in his closeness and his complete attention.

"You said it is a sub-branch now?" he asks. "And that we're now on a different path?"

She nods, lips very close to his ears. She suppresses the urge to kiss it.

"It might still happen," she says. "But now that we're forewarned, we can guard against it."

Right. He pulls back and smiles at her, but that fades away once he catches a glimpse of her flushed face. With a groan, he thunks his forehead against hers and struggles for control.

" _Amante_ ," he whispers. "Don't look at me like that."

She swallows. "I'm sorry," she whispers back. "I missed you though; you were gone for nearly two weeks. And we're in the forest and I just remembered one of my dreams."

He looks at her with wide eyes, pupils dilated with desire.

"You exhibitionist," he growls and complies.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth thanks Merlin for magic.

It removes evidence of their mischief and she can at least pretend some nonchalance. It is a bit difficult though, what with the terrible smirk that adorns Reborn's face.

Luna takes one look at them and relocates Teddy to the playroom.

Cleaning spells had absolutely nothing on a nice, hot shower and it makes Reborn groan and mutter something about being too old for a marathon. Hyacinth smothers her laughter, giddy with happiness and very grateful that what kept Reborn away was something she could help with.

The bark-burn she could do without, as it needed her to ask Mippy to dab it on. The house-elf's disapproving look could have melted ice.

.

* * *

.

"We are not doing that again," Reborn says as she sits gingerly on the couch. "You could have gotten splinters."

Luna covers Teddy's ears even as a faint pink rises up her cheeks.

"Both of you are shameless," Luna tells them in a matter-of-fact tone. "I expected it of Haya, but not from you, Mister Reborn."

Hyacinth laughs and takes out her mixing bowl and her spatula.

"I'm in the mood for pastry," she announces, deliberately changing the topic. She wouldn't put it past her lover to make Luna flee for safety and sense. This was _Luna_ and she hadn't even seen her friend blush. Reborn had accomplished it with just two sentences. "Anyone have any requests?"

Teddy perks up, shaking his head to remove Luna's hands. Apparently, the mixing bowl was the signal for dessert.

"Doughnuts with cinnamon and some caramelized cherries, please," he pleads. He makes his eyes go as wide as possible and turning it black. To her shock, his hair mimics Reborn expertly. He is the perfect miniature Reborn. The effect is rather adorable.

"The Master Teddy has spoken," she says after recovering her voice. "What does Master Reborn say?"

Reborn is looking at the metamorph with gleeful pride.

"Cookies," he says. "With vanilla ice cream and blackberries. Teddy, how long can you hold that transformation?"

Teddy wrinkles his nose. "Dunno. Maybe until the doughnuts get finished."

Sadistic pleasure shines in Reborn's eyes. "Oh, this will be the perfect thing to make Tsunayoshi faint."

Hyacinth wonders what that says about her that she finds such a sadistic Reborn to be comforting.

.


	49. Vacation

In apology for the emotional rollercoaster he put her through, Reborn takes leave of his work for three days.

He spends it cuddling with her in the sofa, taking evening walks in the forest and just being _there_.

Hyacinth unwinds, her insecurities falling away and contentment covering everything with warmth and comfort.

.

* * *

.

Luna, who really had visited for a purpose, takes one look at the cuddling going on in the second day and sighs.

"Haya," she says eventually. "I'll just write you a letter, you're rather preoccupied."

One pale-blonde eyebrow is quirked meaningfully in Reborn's direction.

 _Oh._ Hyacinth wants to be embarrassed, but she's too content to work up the energy to feel the emotion.

"Artemis can take your letter," she answers. "But where are you going?"

Luna walks to the apparition point outside the wards and yells back, "Norway!"

Hyacinth wants to gape. That's a really long way to apparate from Italy. And a really long way for an owl to fly to.

Hyacinth is gratified to see that Reborn looks as incredulous as she feels.

"Norway?" he asks. "What is she doing in Norway?"

She sighs. "I have no idea."

That pretty much sums up her answers to all Luna-related questions anyway.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth pauses in wiping Teddy's face.

"The beach?" she asks.

He nods, lounging on the counter and nursing a cup of espresso. It is early and Teddy is half-asleep. Hyacinth's brain is still thinking on going back to bed. Sometimes, his cheery greetings in the morning tempts her to hit him.

"You need a vacation," he points out. "You're setting up an art studio next month, aren't you?"

She twitches. "How did you know that?" she demands.

His little smile turns into a smirk. "I'm the World's Greatest Hitman," he declares.

"You are not omniscient," she mutters under her breath, though the annoyance isn't really there.

Reborn is still looking at her expectantly and she relents.

"Oh fine," she sighs.

He claps his hands. "Great! I'll just ask Tsunayoshi to babysit Teddy. You need relaxation."

Hyacinth wants to point out that wondering how Teddy is doing is more stressful as opposed to seeing him do his mischief and knowing about it already.

.

* * *

.

Reborn drops Teddy at the Vongola Headquarters with strict instructions to terrify as many people as possible.

Teddy's smile is beatific and if Hyacinth had seen it, she'd have worried _immensely._

"Don't worry about your _madrina_ ," Reborn says. "I'll take care of it."

Teddy hugs Reborn and burrows his little nose into the hitmans shoulder. "Okay. But you have to take care of Haya. She frowns a lot."

Reborn promises and Teddy is given to the care of the unsuspecting Vongola Decimo, who gives Teddy a warm smile. ( _Ah, how innocent!)_

"We'll manage," Tsuna says, his eyes warm and his voice sure. "Teddy is no trouble, not after I-pin, Lambo and Fuuta all in one house."

Like a timed bomb, a scream rings out of Decimo's office just as Reborn is going down the stairs.

Reborn manages to hold in his laughter until he gets out of the mansion.

.

* * *

.

"Oooh!" she breathes in, looking at the sparkling, clear blue waters and the white sands.

Reborn trails behind her, eyes on her legs as she ducks past his umbrella to play in her sundress. The water laps at her feet and she laughs.

"This is brilliant!" she exclaims, running towards him with flushed cheeks. "Whatever did you do to get this isolated beach?"

He shrugs and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "This is Nonno's private family beach. I cashed in a favor."

Hyacinth stands still for a moment before glomping him in happiness. He bears it with an ' _oof_ ' and a soft laugh.

"Thank you," she whispers. "Now, let's have a swimming competition."

His eyes gleam at the thought of competition. "You're on."

.

* * *

.

It's nearly a draw, but Reborn gave a little push and won it, much to his amusement. Hyacinth pouts until he unpacks some chocolates and ice cream peppered with cooling charms.

"When did you pack this?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Your house-elf. I'm surprised Mippy agreed, given that she kept glaring at me."

Hyacinth laughs. "And sniffing! She does this weird thing with her nose when she's pissed off."

"Speaking from experience?" he asks dryly. "But I think I deserve it this time."

She holds his hand, feeling the callouses and the contained strength. "You didn't mean it," she says. "And I already forgave you."

Reborn wraps his arms around her and shakes his head in disagreement. He hadn't forgiven himself yet for making her depressed.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth coaxes Reborn into applying the sunscreen, but his habit of nibbling on her shoulder while she's shaping the sand is distracting, for both of them. The sunscreen gets only half-rubbed on when she finally tackles him into the sand, doing her best to rub the little particles into his hair.

"Hey!" he yells. "Not the hair."

Ridiculous man.

She laughs triumphantly astride his waist but she has to bite back a yelp when he returns the favor, tackling her sideways and holding her down with his torso.

"You ass," she huffs, breathless and giggly. "You competitive, prideful ass."

He smirks. "And what does the defeated party say?"

"Yes, you are the awesome and mighty Reborn," she says with a fake-worshipful tone.

They dissolve into laughter, leaning against each other and exchanging little teasing kisses.

"I missed this," she whispers to him softly. "I missed waking up in the morning with you, of you hogging the shower and having to fight you for the jam."

"You missed having to fight me for the bathroom but not the sex?" he remarks, trying to keep things light.

She giggles into his bicep. "Oh, that too. Mostly, I really _really_ just missed you."

.

* * *

.

He watches as she rests under the shade of the umbrella, peacefully sleeping with the sea breeze caressing her skin.

Reborn had been cold and furious for nearly two weeks, half a month. This contentment partly terrifies him, partly fills him with warmth. Not for the first time, he contemplates letting out his mother's ring from the safety deposit box.

 _Later_ , he thinks.

It is simply too soon to ask, in his mind.

Those lovely emerald eyes open and she yawns. "Reborn? How long have I been sleeping?" she murmurs.

He runs a hand through her hair. "Not for long. Barely an hour. Rest, my dear. I'll watch over you."

She settles down again, her hands reaching for him and sliding their hands together. A perfect fit.

Reborn finally relaxes.

.


	50. Fun

Teddy decides to be honest about his abilities because it might cause some confusion later. To prove it, he changes his shape to look like Reborn the moment Tsuna picks him up gently.

This causes the shocked Decimo to drop him from nerveless fingers with a high pitched shriek, making him scowl. (And making him look more like Reborn than ever.)

"Oh my gosh!" Decimo cries, looking close to fainting and very white.

A door opens with a bang, along with a cry of "Jyuudaime!"

A pause, and then a whimper. "Holy mother of - !"

Teddy reverts back to his favored shape and starts to grin. It is interesting, and he just started too.

.

* * *

.

Teddy manages to make a dozen people blanch, whimper, faint or a combination of all three in the progress of three hours.

After Tsuna recovers (and he recovers admirably, not even a wobble afterwards, though he does groan once or twice) he sends out a runner to tell people what to expect when encountering him.

Teddy doesn't appreciate it. Forewarned people usually weren't so fun anymore. (They didn't faint, just wobble alarmingly)

Still, he deals with what he has and enjoys himself.

Especially once the ropes come into play. It's just like playing with the vines in the Enchanted Forest. And Hyacinth's rules allows him to use his reinforced toy-gun against ropes.

His dexterity and kinetic abilities are tested and he laughs merrily amidst the groans of pain.

.

* * *

.

The butler wants to curse.

He has experience with troubling children – and children too smart for their own good – but this is the first time he has experience with a child that moves like a cat.

He is wily and smart, and not having qualms at all in using his toy-gun on family jewels, leaving more than one footman passed out and groaning in pain.

To top it all off, the child treats it like a training exercise, laughing like he was in a park. (Though, given who the child's guardian is, he wouldn't put it past the hitman to make this stay into hell for everyone involved.)

Then, he bumps against the one person that everybody didn't even think about.

The Varia's Sun Guardian, Lussuria, coos at the little boy as he daggles him by the back of his shirt.

"Why, little boy," he says. "What are you doing here? Where are your parents?"

The child wiggles, hair going through various shades that attract the assassin's attention, before settling on a violent shade of violet.

"I am not so little," he declares fearlessly despite the hint of a wobble in his voice. "And put me down!"

The assassin doesn't listen. He pokes the child several more times.

The hair cycles through several more colors, before settling on red.

And like it is an early warning system, the child explodes in a color of blue, before vanishing in a crack.

The butler wants to faint. He doesn't even want to try imagining what the Decimo will do to him once he tells the man that he's lost the child.

.

* * *

.

Tsuna wants to bang his head on the wall.

After his rather embarrassing display of shrieking, when Teddy had changed to look like his Spartan Hitman Tutor in his Arcobaleno form and the boy had ran out, Tsuna had to alert the rest of the household of the shapechanger's abilities and some instructions to catch him.

He was told to babysit Teddy and Primo only knew what would happen to the boy in a mafia household. (He sometimes had visitors from other Famiglia, so no, his house is only safe for the more notorious ones.)

Then, he is alerted by his steward that the Varia arrived and the first person to see Teddy is Lussuria, who have a more than unhealthy interest in young boys.

"…say that again?" he asks softly.

The steward gulps. "The child, Decimo. He vanished."

Tsuna really wants to cry, or maybe laugh hysterically.

Everything that has happened is insane, and it's only been five hours.

He promised Reborn to look after Teddy for _Two Days._

What had he been thinking?

.

* * *

.

A creepy laugh removes Teddy from under the bed out of curiosity.

"Kufufufufufu!" a young man with a kind smile laughs. "What do we have here?"

Teddy frowns at him. "I'm not a what. Teddy's a Teddy."

The young man bends down closer to Teddy's eye level. That makes him alright in Teddy's books. Everyone so far had been content to talk and tower over him. He didn't like it. Even Reborn understood how to talk to him.

"So, you're Reborn's charge," he muses. "My name is Mukuro. Do you remember me?"

Teddy cocks his head to the side, thinking. Well, there had been someone that laughed like that when the Decimo stayed with him once too, but his memory was blurry.

"A little," Teddy says honestly. "You were noisy."

The young man, in his blurry memory, had caused a lot of noise. Mostly clangs against another person that wanted to bite people.

Mukuro laughs again, warmer this time.

"So what are you doing here, Teddy?" he asks.

Teddy smiles. It unconsciously mimic's his guardian at her most impish state.

"Reborn and Haya is at beach. Teddy stay here so Haya won't be worried. Reborn say, 'Have fun!'," he explains.

The sentence is stilted, but the young man understands anyway, having to materialize a trident so he can remain standing despite the force of his laughter.

"Have fun, from the World's Greatest Hitman," he chortles. "I can work with that. I can definitely work with that." He looks at the boy seriously. "Teddy, would you like me to show you other ways to have fun?"

It is the start of an unholy alliance.

.

* * *

.

Gokudera receives the news of the child's disappearance at the same time as the baseball freak, and wants to find the nearest flat surface to cause himself a concussion.

"Babysit a child that has no qualms causing wild scale destruction of his own guardian's home, never mind another person's," he grumbles under his breath. "Jyuudaime must be more tired signing papers than usual."

And then the frantic dashing about of maids and footmen happened. Gokudera promises to himself not to get involved.

"Hahaha," the baseball freak laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Tsuna is really nice. Hyacinth must be very tired to ask for a vacation."

At the back of Gokudera's mind, he is thinking of Reborn, because this has his signature all over it, the chaos. The woman doesn't even factor in. She's too nice. (Even if he did think that she was capable of poisoning everyone with a smile and an invitation to dinner)

"Che," he scoffs. "I'm not helping. I got sprayed with enough flour, thank you."

The lotus flowers makes the both of them pause.

"I thought Mukuro-san was out on a mission with Chrome-chan?" the baseball freak asks.

Gokudera lets out some of the tamer insults lest he explode.

"He must have come back early," he growls. "Dammit. Let's help. Jyuudaime might actually recruit Mammon to do it, and our treasury can't stand the rates the bastard charges."

Takeshi laughs, calming Gokudera for a moment.

They round the corner, and he starts cursing vehemently, never mind who is listening.

Because the little neon haired boy had just found Belphegor and it looked like the self-proclaimed prince was very happy about it, what with the chortling laughter he let out.

.


	51. Synonyms

Hyacinth is going down climbing out of bed, alone and slips on something squishy. With a muffled curse and rubbing her stinging shoulder, she reaches back and pulls it out from under her foot.

It takes a moment for her to identify it, and when she did, she blushes to the roots of her hair.

The squished thing is identifiable as a strawberry, with dried bits of chocolate clinging to it. How it ended up by the bed isn't so hard to extrapolate, especially after what she and her lover did after eating their dinner.

"Oh gosh," she murmurs, trying to force down the blush. "Reborn, you sap."

Her lover isn't romantic and he is more the type to abuse your hospitality and order you around. But once in a while, Hyacinth thinks. He does something like that and makes it worth it.

Candlelit dinners by the ocean, with wine and strawberries covered with chocolate for dessert.

She knows it is an apology, as well as his own way of atoning for ignoring her.

He isn't romantic but he is half-Italian, half-French. Bold gestures, as well as a charming way of words, are practically in his blood.

.

* * *

.

He is waiting for her by the door, eyes on the sea and body leaning on the doorframe. He is the very picture of laziness and she smirks, remembering how quickly he could move when motivated. Like when she baked cookies and Colonnello was there to compete for it.

"Good morning," she greets. "When did you get up?"

He glances back at her, eyes dark and soft. "A while ago. You were sleeping rather deeply, I didn't want to wake you up."

It is rare that she could sleep in. There were things that caught her attention, or things she made into a checklist. Sometimes, there was even Teddy being demanding. Or when she just couldn't sleep because of her nightmares coming back to haunt her.

"So what's the agenda for today?" she asks, standing on the tips of her toes to give him a kiss. He tastes slightly bitter and like chocolate, telling her of what he had for breakfast.

His arms come around her, warm and as strong as bands of steel. "First, you'll eat breakfast. And then, I'll take you to the rocks today. You'll understand why when you see it."

A look of consternation crosses her face. "You cooked?" she asks. There is trepidation in her voice.

With some exasperation, he answers, "No, there is no need to look so frightened. Mippy brought it this morning. She didn't trust me either." He rolls his eyes. "I have no idea why."

Hyacinth swallows half a dozen come backs to that. It isn't that Reborn couldn't cook. His food is edible and just that. It isn't a culinary work of art or burned charcoal. It is set firmly in the middle and had the tendency to go either way, depending on his mood.

"You'll argue with me anyway," she sighs instead.

.

* * *

.

Breakfast is done quickly and he enjoys stealing bits of her waffles.

She resists the urge to pelt him with food, because if she did, she'd be tempted to lick it off him and then they'd be stuck in the little cottage for the whole day.

Reborn pushes her to get changed and looks so secretive and that Hyacinth didn't have the heart to say anything either.

Just for the fun of it, she comes out in a sundress, with a wide-brimmed hat covering temporarily blonde hair.

Reborn almost lets go of the picnic basket he is carrying and his mouth falls open.

" _Mio Dio_ ," he mutters. "You are such a tease, _amante_."

She laughs and hooks a hand around his waist.

He trips a couple of times, unable to keep his eyes off her.

.

* * *

.

"Do you think Teddy's alright?" she asks him.

Reborn's smirk is devilish and completely terrifying, if she had seen it.

"Oh, I'm sure he's fine," he reassures her. "And besides, if Tsunayoshi is having difficulties, he can always call me."

.

" _Cazzo!"_

" _Shut up, you idiot! What if the kid picks it up?"_

_There is a snarl. "You try to keep your mouth shut."_

_Bang! Bang!_

_A sob. "Damn kid. Where the hell are reinforcements? I can't take it anymore."_

" _Bloody – The wires are coming now! Retreat!"_

.

"I suppose so," Hyacinth mutters. "I hope he isn't too scared. He doesn't have friends to support him."

Reborn bites his tongue. "He's gotten over his fears," he tells her. "And besides, he takes after you."

.

* * *

.

The 'rocks' as Reborn calls them, is a strange formation of stone worn away by the tide and shining because of the crystalized salt.

It is fanciful and beautiful, especially with the tidal pools by its base, filled with trapped fish and scuttling little crabs. Pink corals peek out from under the white sands and it is charming and treacherous all at once, with the sharp edges that could cut your feet to ribbons.

It is a fitting thing in a resort owned by a mafia Don.

.

* * *

.

"You'll be busy tomorrow, won't you?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Most likely. Things are coming to a head among the other bosses. I probably won't be able to come home for a while after this."

Hyacinth furrows her brow. "Is it wise that we left Teddy with your student then, if his situation is so precarious?"

Reborn scoffs. "Oh no. They won't attack, or ambush the Vongola HQ. It is a fool and an idiot that would attack home ground. " Then, so softly that no one would be able to hear it, he adds, "And it's more training for them, to have Teddy around."

"Okay," she murmurs. "I'll leave that to you then."

He pats her on the shoulder. "The meeting is being held in Sicily. And negotiations usually take at least a week, at most a month."

Dismay is on her face. "A month? You'll be gone for a month?"

He takes her into his arms as much as for her comfort as for his. "I'll do my best so that it won't even take that long," he whispers into her ears.

She takes in a breath. "Okay. I'll just...I'll manage."

 _I'll miss you_ , hung unspoken in the air. _Take care of yourself._

He thumbs her lips. "Teddy will keep you company. And some of the others will visit you, I'm sure."

She nods. "Luna did tell me to go to Norway," she tells him.

With a sigh, he places his chin on her head and tries to relax. The idea of not seeing his sweet, flighty lover for longer than a month, does not sit well with him.

He kisses her on the forehead and tugs her back to the little cottage with a smile.

.


	52. Baiting

Teddy is in the middle of wrapping two butlers with the curtains when someone picks him up by putting a hand on his stomach and letting him hang like a sack of potatoes.

No one has ever picked him up like that since Reborn left and he has an inkling that no one likely will, so he allows himself to sag, looking up at his captor and correctly guessing that yes, it is Reborn.

"Hello!" he greets the man. "Have fun?"

Reborn, surveying the butlers stuck to the curtains and valiantly wiggling to get lose, smirks. "Yes, I had fun. So did you, now that I look at it properly."

The butlers whimper under the man's heavy stare.

"So," he continues, hefting up Teddy to sit on his shoulders. "How was your sleepover?"

With a snicker, Teddy starts telling Reborn about how wonderful it is to mix illusions with razor-sharp wire.

.

* * *

.

"He's a very…creative boy," Tsuna is saying as they drink tea and eat cake. His expression is pained.

Hyacinth projects polite interest even if she wants to snicker. She recognizes the look on his face as someone who just had a close exposure to a prank. Like most of everyone in Gryffindor Tower after the Weasley Twins got into the mood of it.

"Really?" Hyacinth manages to say without laughing. "Teddy is such a sweet boy, so I don't think you would have any trouble."

The right-hand man's face spasms at her words and Hyacinth takes a fortifying gulp of tea.

"Thank you very much though, for watching Teddy," she continues. "Did he have fun?"

Tsuna's face seems stuck into 'polite'. "He did. He had fun playing with Mukuro and Bel, I think. They were as thick as thieves."

The door opens, Reborn strolling in with Teddy hanging on to his shoulders. The boy is laughing, hair as teal as it could get and eyes a lovely brown.

"Haya!" he yells. "You're back! Reborn take care of Haya?"

With some experience, Hyacinth knows that Teddy is going to launch himself at her and she stands up, saving her tea with expertise while catching the boy-shaped projectile.

"Yes, Reborn was lovely and he took care of me. I heard you had fun?" she asks.

When the boy giggles, Hyacinth looks at her swirling tea cup in order not to lose her composure.

.

* * *

.

Reborn tries hard to keep his face neutral while the rest of the room trade pleasantries. It's made more difficult because his lover can be a troll if she scents the opportunity.

Teddy, with the blood of pranksters running in his veins, helps by keeping still and being angelic beside his godmother.

_Wait…_

Teddy just winked at Hayato, making the Storm go red in holding back his temper.

 _Oh Primo_!

He struggles with the urge to hide his face behind his fedora and just _laugh_.

.

* * *

.

Tsuna tries to reconcile the little hellion that overturned his mansion's security with the angelic little thing that is behaving in the presence of his godmother.

He ….can't. It just makes his head hurt, thinking of 'angelic' and 'Teddy' in the same sentence, unless it's in the negative.

He can tell that Hayato, behind him, is in the same boat. It's a really difficult thing to keep up pleasantries.

"Oh, I just remembered," Hyacinth says, tapping a finger on her lips. "I have some souvenirs for Teddy's new friends. I think they'll like it."

Like a light bulb, Teddy brightens up and smiles. "Mukuro and Bel!" he announces. "They have really neat tricks, Haya. Did you know they could make someone faint just by smiling?"

She arches an eyebrow at the boy instead of scolding him for misbehaving. "And I suppose you tried?"

Tsuna gives up. Nothing makes sense at the moment and he would try again tomorrow.

.

* * *

.

Like a compass, Teddy leads them to his new friends unerringly.

Hyacinth is very interested in the people who could make her godson forget his fears of new people and play.

Reborn is trailing behind her, face shadowed by the fedora. She would call it mysterious and cool, except she could see his shoulders shaking with mirth.

Then, like a curtain unraveling, that self-same young man with something written in his eye appears. He is smirking at Teddy and while she could call it creepy, his eyes are kind.

"So you're the Mukuro Teddy keeps talking about," she remarks with a smile. "Here, I passed by a bakery and I know nobody can resist chocolate cake."

He accepts the box with a laughed, "Kufufufu." Hyacinth smiles sunnily at him.

Teddy breaks the stare by hugging the young man around the legs, babbling with happiness and squeezing his legs cheerfully, almost making him stumble.

.

* * *

.

Bel, the princely teenager, appears just as they approach the Varia Suite.

He doesn't greet Hyacinth with more than a nod, instead crouching down in front of Teddy and patting his head with his creepy laugh.

"Hello, my princeling," he says. "Is this your queen?"

Teddy nods enthusiastically. "Haya is the best. She bring you some snacks," he announces with aplomb.

Bel looks at Hyacinth expectantly and she obliges, handing out a neatly wrapped box and smiling at him happily.

"I'm sure you were wonderful with Teddy," Hyacinth says happily. "Thank you for playing with him."

The young assassin looks at the wrapped package warily, eyeing her smile.

"Haya's a really nice cook," Teddy says earnestly to his friend. "She cooks and it's like, _boom_ and everybody can't stop eating."

Bel relaxes, evidently remembering the picnic and the pastries served. "So I heard," he says. "You come back here, princeling, and we'll play again."

They both shake on that promise and Hyacinth smiles at the image. She doesn't stop them, because friends as deadly as that can only be a good thing.

.

* * *

.

"You burned their linen room?" Hyacinth asks, slightly appalled at the amount of damage she's hearing about. Pranks are one thing and magic can clean up accidents but they are _muggles_.

Teddy pouts. "It was accident!" he exclaims. "Like, Oops! Did not mean to drop candle."

Hyacinth is startled into laughing. "Oh, Merlin," she says. "And I suppose you painting one hallway blue was an accident too?"

Teddy smirks then and Hyacinth just gives up on trying to scold him. Being Remus Lupin's son means more than having the blood of a werewolf. It means a propensity for mischief and disaster.

Reborn is no help at all, leaning helplessly against the table and laughing himself weak. Initially, he had tried to hold it in, his chuckles barely escaping. But upon hearing how they managed to booby-trap the manor with wire, illusions, paint and flour, he'd given it up and guffawed.

"Good job," he tells the boy, after he'd recovered his breath.

Hyacinth turns on him. "So this is _your fault_ ," she says.

He backs away, hands raised.

.


	53. Fulcrum

Hyacinth's day usually starts out with kisses tasting like coffee and small hands cheerfully patting her awake.

But she knows Reborn had to leave early. So early that he did not even try to wake her up. So she blinks to alertness, the other side of her bed cold and her godson forlornly dragging his favorite teddy bear to her room.

There is no better alarm clock than Reborn in the morning and his sudden absence makes all occupants feel off-kilter.

"Good morning, Teddy," she says, scooping him from the floor.

Teddy doesn't smile. His hair is a sad, dull brown. He had gotten more used to Reborn than she had thought possible. _She_ had gotten more used to Reborn than she thought possible.

"Come now," she says, mustering up the energy to smile and push back the loneliness. "That's no way to greet the sun. And I'm baking cupcakes today. With buttercream frosting."

Teddy finally smiles. "Okay," he says.

Mippy clucks her tongue at the idea of sugar, because Teddy is an energetic student on a good day and he didn't _need_ help.

.

* * *

.

Cupcake batter is so similar to cake batter that Hyacinth's hands shake as she mixes it, mind unwillingly cast back to that terrible time.

Mippy, at least, helps in keeping Teddy occupied. She doesn't think it's intentional though, what with Teddy's scowl as he picks up his toys and Mippy's annoyed huff's as she trails behind him.

It's worth it, to see Teddy's smile as he bites into the cupcake, frosting smearing his nose. It's adorable and makes the shadow of an ache in her hand vanish.

.

* * *

.

"We're visiting Luna tomorrow," she tells him as he works his way through his sums. He is a brilliant boy but he really needs to work on his patience.

He is glaring at his workbook and if it could, she swears it would spontaneously combust.

"Luna is the nice lady with the weird presents?" Teddy clarifies. "She gives nice hugs."

Hyacinth laughs a little. A lot of things could be used to describe Luna and that is the nicest.

"Yes, that Luna," she answers. "And it's somewhere a bit colder. So don't forget to pack your jacket and your scarf. Oh, and mittens. Maybe a hat?"

Teddy gives her a look so reminiscent of Reborn that she stops talking. "Fretting," the boy sighs. "Stop fretting, Haya."

Hyacinth really laughs then. "Okay, I won't fret. There are warming charms for that anyway."

Both house-elf and boy exchange _speaking_ looks.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth ends up fretting anyway, because Luna's owl responded a bit late and the coordinates given were a bit far. Italy is really a _long_ way away from Norway.

Well, no one ever mentions anything about the legalities of it. There was a reason why her disarming charm had worked over Voldemort's Avada Kedavra, and it wasn't because of the Elder Wand.

" _Portus_!" she mutters, tapping a worn sock and making it glow a blue.

Teddy watches this with avid interest. Hyacinth despairs ever making him take her seriously when it's her turn to tell him to turn down the pranks. He is already witnessing her break several international laws by making this illegal portkey.

"Don't tell anyone," she tells him as she makes sure he holds the sock firmly. "And especially not the Hermione."

Thankfully, Reborn's lessons have not yet touched bribery and blackmail, or else she would have a harder time of it.

.

* * *

.

Luna is there to help them on their feet and to dust off the dirt clinging to their clothes. Portkey travel is hard enough, but intercontinental portkey's are just awful.

"I've found some really interesting creatures here," Luna starts off, not even bothering to say hello. "And the food here is marvelous. You should try it, Haya. And the berries!"

They end up carrying Teddy, because his stomach disagreed with the rapid movement of the portkey's activation.

Luna looks like she's having the time of her life and Hyacinth is reminded why she loves making Luna happy. Nothing can beat Luna's innocent smiles bar Teddy.

.

* * *

.

"I've been hearing things about Näcken and the Skogsrå," Luna says over a late meal with raspberries and oatmeal cookies. "And it was pretty interesting to try and find them."

Because Hyacinth has been reading about it before she came to find her friend, she is alarmed. "Aren't Näcken's the ones that try to drown you? And don't they specifically target women? Luna, they're dangerous!"

Luna waves a hand dismissively. "Pah! Muggles. Just wear the appropriate clothing and its fine. The _stories_ they could tell, Haya."

And there, Hyacinth remembers that Luna, for all her kindness and eccentricities, was raised a pureblood too.

A headache suddenly hits her.

"Merlin," she moans. "I hope I'm not here in case you get eaten by something you aren't prepared to face."

Luna blinks in surprise. "Oh, goodness. Of course not. Rolf is joining me later anyway."

Her heart settles, because the idea of _babysitting_ Luna, of being _responsible_ for Luna, makes her want to have a heart attack. Teddy is bad enough.

"Then why?" she wants to demand, except Luna always has a reason.

Luna pats her on the head. "Because you are being silly, in thinking no one at home will seek to cripple you," she says solemnly.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth feels the world around her slow down and resettle in sharp clarity.

Did Luna mean that?

"Luna," she says, and she doesn't know how her face looks like, but Luna is looking concerned and Teddy's hair is cycling through different colors before settling on black. Fear.

"You're too careless," Luna elaborates. "There are still some of them left, Haya. Not all battles are fought with just one front. You should go home and settle your affairs."

An epiphany hit her as her mind raced in three different directions.

_This is the turning point, and what I will decide will alter the course of Teddy's future._

What had Teddy said? A picture album, with some pages torn out and Hyacinth no longer there.

 _Of course_. So she had been forced to choose, in that future. To choose between Teddy or Reborn. Her godson or her muggle lover.

She could feel a weight she had not known existed, vanish from her shoulders.

"Okay," she murmurs. "I will visit Rachel. And I will make sure there will be no loopholes."

Because the only thing she could envision tripping her up would be loopholes in her care of Teddy, or with her relationship with Reborn.

"I'll take care of it," she finishes, a smile on her face that made Luna's brows wrinkle in concern.

.


	54. Scales

Rachel is an angel and nothing people say would convince Hyacinth otherwise.

She shows up at her assistant's doorstep without prior warning, balancing Teddy on her hip and a handbag on another.

The only sign of her surprise is the slight widening of her eyes and her shapely mouth going 'O'.

"Come in, Miss Potter," she says. "And young Master Lupin, of course."

Teddy stifles a giggle in his scarf.

.

* * *

.

When Teddy is preoccupied with hot chocolate, laced with a bit of diluted Sleeping Draught (the little imp was exhausted and Hyacinth _knew_ he would stay up just to be stubborn.), she talks to Rachel.

While the muggleborn isn't taking up Law, she has friends who have and between Rachel's contacts and Hyacinth's friends – mainly Hermione – they find out what Luna figured out before everybody else did.

"It's something that just got recently pushed in the Wizengamot, a new legislation," Hermione's voice comes through the enchanted mirror. "I don't know how Luna heard about it. It's a relatively low key Act. Still, it will affect you, Haya. Mostly half-bloods with feet between two worlds. This is barbaric, I don't know how I didn't notice this legislation."

She dissolves into mutters and Hyacinth turns helpless eyes towards her assistant.

"Rachel…" she sighs. Her eyes stray towards Teddy, sleeping on the chair. His hair is Remus's color in his sleep. "I can't give up one of them, my friend."

Rachel's eyes are sympathetic. "Miss Potter, you could adopt young Master Lupin. Or take it up with the Goblins."

Goblins. Of course.

It is the right course of action. She knows because Hermione's voice rings out of the mirror, excited and almost vibrating with energy.

"You could!" she cries out. "Haya, Bill is going there tomorrow. But he isn't exactly a lawyer."

Unsaid, the wrath of the Goblins against her because of the dragon and imperio'ing their own fellow Goblin.

Hyacinth feels her hand tremble but she knows stalling would only delay the inevitable. The Goblins are almost a separate nation, a law unto themselves. If her guardianship of Teddy would be backed by the Goblins, it would be iron-clad and immovable. The only problem left would be Reborn's knowledge of magic and that is easy enough to fix. Like telling everyone she's intending to marry him.

(There are few enough of their population that one vying for marriage is left alone, if only for the future children.)

"Uhm," Rachel coughs, looking apologetic. "I know you don't exactly get along, Miss Potter. But Mr. Malfoy is one of the most accomplished lawyers that I know of."

Hyacinth sighs and tries to drown herself in her tea.

.

* * *

.

Draco Malfoy shows up at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor promptly, robes professionally gray and face somber.

Hyacinth is abruptly reminded that she isn't the only one who suffered through the War when she looks at his eyes. For Malfoy, the War had started much earlier as well, and he had lesser preparation. Hyacinth had her entire life lead up to war. For him, it must have been a shock.

"Mr. Malfoy," Rachel greets him warmly. "My employer wishes to have your services to negotiate with the Goblins."

Malfoy's eyes unerringly meets hers and a wealth of emotion flit through his grey eyes. With some effort, he makes them blank.

"Potter," he says. "Trouble with goblins?"

Hyacinth thinks of Teddy and doesn't hex him.

"Yes," she says curtly. "Unfortunately. They're all more likely to kill me than treat with me."

He smirks and Hyacinth longs for Reborn's murderous glowers behind her scaring people witless.

.

* * *

.

"You destroyed Gringotts's roof," he says incredulously. "Set free their security dragon and ….stole from a vault? Potter, Imperius-ing the head manager is the least of your problems."

Having him list it all down makes Hyacinth want to bury her head in defeat. "Yes, I did all of that. Not alone though. Ron and Hermione were with me."

He snorts, as though he is unable to help it. "So that explains why they don't come near the bank."

He shakes his head. "But you're right," he mutters. "They are your strongest supporters, if you could get them to like you. Bugger that though, you'd bollocks'd your chances there."

Hyacinth works not to show her helplessness. "So it's too much then?" she murmurs.

Before her, Malfoy transforms into someone she recognizes at least, usually across the Quidditich Pitch. A challenge that burns him.

"Oh," he drawls. "I didn't say that. One of your Weasley's is married to that French Veela, isn't he? Potter, if you could convince that one, she'd take your cause to their Sisterhood."

.

* * *

.

Draco enjoys the confusion that flits through Potter's face.

Even if she is an accomplished witch, some of her muggle roots still show in her occasional ignorance. It is petty, he knows, but it makes up for the crawling discomfort creeping up and down his spine. They may have set aside previous grudges, but that does not mean it is _forgotten_.

"The Veela's created a Sisterhood in self-defense," he tells her. "And it near-rivals the Goblins when it comes to support."

Her face is a picture. He stores it away to laugh at later, when he can do it without getting hexed.

"Potter, do not underestimate the effect of a beautiful woman in a conference of men, especially Veela" he elucidates. "They've been France's backbone since the creation of the Sisterhood. It might help that you're a woman. They don't particularly like men, you see."

Then, like something beautiful breaching the surface of a lake, Potter smiles.

"Oh," she says softly. "I may…have better chances with them, won't I?"

His breath catches in his throat and he looks away to salvage his dignity. Rachel Dupont gives him a look of complete sympathy.

Potter really doesn't know the effect she has on people. On either gender.

.

* * *

.

Teddy is completely taken with Rachel that Hyacinth feels confident enough to leave them alone together in Hogsmeade. That Mippy is instructed to take care of everything Teddy would ever need, from his protection to a scraped knee, is nothing worth mentioning.

It is absolutely normal to have your house-elf stalk your godson.

Meanwhile, she takes her courage and her will in hand and goes to Shell Cottage, where she had spent two hellish weeks in recovery of drug overdose.

It isn't that she is afraid of the memories overwhelming her, because she's not. She just needs to remember her wand in her hand and she would feel better.

She is worried of everyone else walking in eggshells around her for the duration of the visit.

She remembers enough, she doesn't need anyone else reminding her, dammit.

.

* * *

.

Fleur though, is a magic-blessed, Merlin-sent Veela.

She takes one look at Hyacinth and shoos Bill away, and even pushes the baby on him. Other assorted visitors, like Percy and George, are likewise flooed out.

Hyacinth loves her and says so, making the Veela laugh.

"Thank you," she says. "But I am married. Why are you here, Hyacinth?"

Hyacinth thinks of Teddy, of Reborn. She casts her mind back to the alternate version of her godson that grew up without her and steels her mind. She thinks to a cold Reborn and how he would be without her, unfeeling, sadistic and meaning it instead of just doing it for fun.

"I have…a request of sorts, Fleur," she starts slowly. "I wanted to try the Goblins, but Malfoy tells me that it would be easier to ask the Centaurs to teach at Hogwarts. So he told me to ask you, to see if the Sisterhood would protect Teddy from his werewolf status. By the laws of the new legislation, he counts as a half-blood."

Fleur is calculating. It is an unnerving thing to witness from such a sweet and lovely woman.

"He is a half-werewolf by the new laws," she concludes. "So he is forced to spend half of his time among the werewolves and the other half among humans. And so he will be taken away from you, because you are not a werewolf."

Hyacinth temper peaks without her consent.

"It's barbaric," she snarls. "Because they're forcing the children to make a choice. I mean, I know that having to spend some time in both worlds is good for them, but for those who don't have a good half? Like Professor Flitwick. He once told me that his father's relatives were more likely to execute him than teach him their culture. Because he is a half-breed and an abomination."

Fleur's eyes flare and she looks more beaklike than normal.

"Of course I will help you," she announces, tossing back her head. "My children are protected by the Sisterhood. I will ask them to protect little Teddy as well."

Hyacinth wants to cry in relief. She settles for jumping Fleur and hugging the stuffing out of her.

.

* * *

.

With one problem settled, Hyacinth could set her sights on something else.

Like who was the arse who pushed that legislation through.

Rachel takes one look at her ice-cold face and sighs, putting on the kettle and settling in for another long night.

Teddy regales her with the story of how he got each of his new toys. Hyacinth listens and absorbs, because it is a nice reminder of what she is waging a silent war for.

He settles against her, a small solid weight.

Hyacinth pats him asleep and nods firmly. She had until the end of the Vongola treaty to settle her affairs. Reborn would worry if he came home to an empty house after all.

.


	55. Probing

Digging around the Wizengamot and among the Pureblood's is always risky business and Hyacinth has enough liabilities.

If she still had the favour of the goblins, it would be a simple matter to arrange a meeting with her manager and gossip. Goblins love nothing more than to insult wizards and laugh at their misfortune. Sadly, that avenue is closed to her, so she resorts to other things, like hanging around the Leaky Cauldron and making a spectacle of herself.

She's just _really_ glad that Reborn isn't there. His intimidating presence would defeat the purpose of networking.

.

* * *

 

.

"Hey, Haya!" Lavander greets her, the scars on climbing up from her shoulder not detracting the brightness of her smile.

Hyacinth smiles, a little pleased to see the pureblood. If there is a worse gossip than goblins, it is Lavander Brown.

"Hey Lav," she says. "You look lovely."

As expected, the flattery makes her blush, and the woman seats herself at Hyacinth's table eagerly and without suspicion.

"What's up with you?" Lavander asks.

Hyacinth knows not to give away too much. Lavander might be a Gryffindor but she is a little air-headed. She had the habit of talking without thinking. So she smiles coyly and flutters her eyelashes, saying, "Just settling some things. It is nice to be away from the muggles."

Lavander gasps. "You've been to the muggle world? Is it a sabbatical?"

Hyacinth shrugs, making a play at nonchalance. "I found someone. He's the sweetest man in the world."

.

* * *

 

.

Perhaps it is a little mean, but there is a reason why plain, awkward Hyacinth had banded together with bookish Hermione Granger and it wasn't because Hyacinth needed a study partner.

In the girl's dormitory, there is little privacy and there is also nothing more petty or innocently cruel as a child.

Maybe the Hat had a point about wanting to put her in Slytherin, but this is her family on the line and she would do anything to keep them safe.

.

* * *

 

.

Lavander is joined by Daphne Greengrass and Padma Patil midway through the lunch hour. The servers glare at them for hogging a table. All four of them order soup and don't touch it, more intent on talking.

It is a strange conglomeration of women, each of them likely having their own agenda but achieving their end goals just the same. Especially when Padma lets slip that there's an exclusive group of Pureblood's that discuss the Ministry's laws, auditing it so that nothing like Tom Riddle could ever slip through the cracks of the system ever again.

It is a strangely sensible group that it immediately makes Hyacinth suspicious. Especially after she hears the names involved it.

Nott, Avery, Jugson, Rosier, Mulciber and a dozen more of them.

If she were in a different meeting and in a different time, she would say she's reading the list of names of the Death Eaters. It is also rather telling that none of the Neutral Pureblood's are on the list.

But the Death Eaters are gone and there is only a group named the Red Eye.

.

* * *

 

.

Each of them walk away from that meeting satisfied. Hyacinth recalls everything she was forced to let go in order to get equivalent information and curses when she realizes that she'd told them Reborn's name.

Thankfully, she remembered not to mention Italy, or their house (or even Reborn's occupation and the mafia). But Padma's prods about her art studio had been subtle. And she'd fallen for it.

She hopes it won't come back to bite her in the arse.

The thought of groups of wizards flocking to her studio, to buy the Chosen One's art, is enough to make her hair stand up.

.

* * *

 

.

Teddy is climbing all over her and it is with the ease of long practice that Hyacinth accommodates him while having a conversation at the same time.

"The Red Eye?" Rachel says blankly. "They're fairly straightforward. They keep legal counsel with Mr. Malfoy."

Hyacinth doesn't want to jump to conclusions. So she fire-calls Kingsley and finds out that all of the laws passed by the Wizengamot have gone through the Red Eye since the groups creation.

Okay, since that's their job. But what about the laws they've rejected? Or the ones they have passed?

She wants to find out if there is a common pattern developing and to see how they pass and fail laws. She blames Reborn for this. She didn't even care about statistics and factors until he'd waxed lyrical about theorems and algorithms after he'd drunk one coffee too many.

.

* * *

 

.

Mrs. Weasley eventually hears about her being back in England and don't waste time reeling her back into the Burrow through any means necessary.

Those means involve George, pranks and Teddy's puppy eyes. It is a god-awful combination and she caves, putting back her investigation in her clutch bag and promising her assistant to be back before ten in the evening.

It helps that they are all genuinely happy to see her and the old jokes are revived with a vengeance. Some of them no longer apply, like ' _speckled, scrawny chit_ ' and ' _good ol' mop hair_ '. But ' _green-eyed lobster_ ' and ' _lampshade eyes_ ' still works and she laughs harder than she had in a long time.

And then Mrs. Weasley harps again about Reborn.

.

* * *

 

.

"Is he still not marrying you, Hyacinth dear?" Mrs. Weasley asks after the jokes had run out and saying them again would wear them of their use. "It's been a while, hasn't it? He's just living on your generosity."

Hyacinth thinks of Reborn ever _living_ on someone else's generosity and tries not to laugh. Her lover has pride, too much of it to consider doing so. But then again, if he's in the mood for it, he can be fairly vindictive and sadistic enough to do so.

"He's a busy man, Mrs. Weasley," she says, unsuccessful in keeping the amusement from her voice. "And I don't mind the lack of a ring. I _know_ he's mine."

The matron tuts disapprovingly. "That's what they all say, Hyacinth. I do hope he doesn't run off after you've gotten pregnant."

It is such an unkind thought that Hyacinth's temper spikes and without her notice, a window cracks - a mere hairsbreadth away from exploding outwards.

Teddy, recognizing the warning signs, squeaks and slides down his seat to hide under the table. Ron, Hermione and George clench their wands in alarm.

"I know you're only looking out for me," Hyacinth says softly in the abrupt silence. "And I do appreciate it, Mrs. Weasley. But I love that man and I know he cares for me as well. If he does leave me, I know it will not be done voluntarily."

Hyacinth falls silent, not willing to say she didn't mean it under the weight of the collective Weasley stare.

"Molly dear," Mr. Weasley says gently. "I'm sure Haya can make up her own mind about it."

She subsides but the damage is done.

Hyacinth doesn't laugh as hard, nor does she joke so easily anymore.

Teddy falling asleep on her lap is enough of an excuse and she tells herself she's not running away even as she meets Hermione's sad eyes over the top of Ginny's embrace.

.

* * *

 

.

She tucks Teddy to bed and apparates out of Magical London, finding the nearest rooftop and dialling Reborn's number.

He answers before the first ring finishes, uncaring of the time difference.

" _Tesoro,_ " he whispers and his voice is like a patronus, warding away the chill of the night. " _You're calling late."_

She shudders, imagining his face and his dark eyes. "I just...I just needed to hear your voice."

" _Really?"_ he asks, because he knows she isn't a melodramatic person or a clingy one. " _Bad news then?"_

Hyacinth manages a laugh. "You are such a pessimist. No." She sighs. "I missed you."

He inhales. " _I as well_ ," he says. " _I miss your food. None of the Vongola cooks know how to make an espresso as delicious as you do."_

There are a thousand words unsaid, what with the timing probably wrong and the Reborn most likely busy. But she hears it and she feels better. She wraps the warmth and needy tone of his voice around her.

"Good night, my love," she says.

There is a lengthy pause at his end, before he echoes, "Good night, my love."

The line cuts off and Hyacinth stares at her phone in shock.

.


	56. Interlude for SANTA

Reborn takes a deep breath and lets it out.

He isn't easily cowed and he's never met a hitman or an assassin who's a coward. But given the circumstances, he supposes that he could be forgiven for the momentary lapse.

_Breathe in. Out._

He'd been pushing everything back and letting his special brand of sadistic dark humor mask the fact that he found what they were doing completely suicidal. But Hyacinth had called and he _couldn't not answer._

He'd felt it, even through the phones speakers. Her desperation and her need for him.

It had cracked his shields and for a moment - just for a moment, he'd recalled warm green eyes and a smile just for him. He'd yearned to be anywhere but in his suite, to be with her than helping his student unite Italy's underground.

_Breathe in. Out._

He allows another breath of weakness before he painstakingly builds his shields back up. He couldn't afford to be distracted, the other Don's, especially of Southern Italy, are arriving within moments. Tsunayoshi did not need him there to greet people, but his presence did announce something.

Southern Italy is worse off than the rest of the country, the Mafia there more blood thirsty and their ideas of Family more of a blurred afterthought than a promise that Vongola had made popular. To get them to stop the more dirty practices and go back to the cleaner methods (as clean as one could get in the mafia anyway) would take a miracle...or Tsunayoshi's brand of charm and charisma.

The Vongola, the Cavallone, the Shimon, the Gesso and the Giglio Nero against the fifty famiglia's that comprise Southern Italy.

_Breathe in. Out._

He tries not to let it intimidate him too much. Most of the missions he'd taken in the past two years were geared to bring about this meeting. Subtle sabotage, minor prodding and some serious hits against the very worst offenders, sometimes again and again when they wouldn't take a hint and keep putting another man in the same corrupt position. Planting spies and collecting their information. Teaching new recruits encryptions and sometimes just creating a code from scratch because people kept cracking the old ones.

He'd collaborated with Hayato and Verde to make an encrypted website – which took three weeks and almost forty-eight hours of no sleep when they launched it.

He remembers a yellow pacifier resting on his chest, the weight of it deceptively light in the face of the crippling effects it had on his body. An alien with a chequered mask and an iron hat making demands, casting a doom and an eternal cycle of hatred because he couldn't be bothered to find a better solution.

No, he is done turning the other way.

_Breathe in. Out._

Hyacinth's memory is now a source of strength instead of a distraction. He holds the sound of her laughter in his chest like a talisman and strides out of his suite confidently.

_Smile, Reborn._

The face he puts out must be suitably terrifying because several bodyguards squeak and reach for their weapons when he enters the room dramatically.

"Good evening, gentlemen," he drawls out, hands loose and unclenched. Tsunayoshi had said 'be a reminder and a possible threat, _not be one_.' "Enjoying yourselves?"

One woman cocks an eyebrow, as unflappable as anything. He holds back a real grin. He loves messing with unflappable people. Watching them fall apart is always more immensely satisfying than the easily flustered ones.

He stalks towards her and she smiles. Reborn wants to scoff, though he is inwardly hoping that she wouldn't think he's serious. Hyacinth is frightening when she's jealous. (He still remembers how her fingers had twitched when Bianchi had draped herself on him.)

"Doña Clarissa," he greets her smoothly. "How's business?"

She rolls her eyes at him. "Reborn," she sighs. "Of course you are here. I hear you've been Vongola's dog. No longer freelancing, hmm?"

 _Wow._ Dog. What an unpleasant thought.

He affects a wounded expression, holding a hand to his chest and feels more than hears the doña's bodyguard's shifting a little. "That hurts a little," he says sadly. "My dear beloved student Tsunayoshi is such a dear thing. He is a joy to work with, do you blame me for going back and checking, just to make sure what I taught sticks?"

His sadistic and chaotic reputation serves him well here. He's really not _technically_ allowed to be allied with the Vongola, per se. He started out as a freelance hitman and he amassed a mountain of favors and goodwill that way. Cementing himself firmly by Vongola Decimo's side would break mountains of contacts.

"He's a difficult student then?" she asks, and there is a glint in her eyes that makes him suppress laughter. Tsunayoshi had said he'd wanted to be underestimated, anyway.

"Eh," he waves a languid hand. "A little slow sometimes."

He knows he's done his job by the unholy light shining in her eyes.

The doors open again and he knows without looking that Tsunayoshi had arrived. Hayato at his shoulder suppressing the instincts of a Storm Guardian, though his hands are white and clenched on the spines of the folders he'd held.

Reborn loves his student, but subtle he is not. There's a reason why he requests Reborn to do infiltration jobs and it's not because he had the best array of costumes.

"Our cooks have been busy for the whole day," he tells them as a greeting. "Will you join me for dinner?"

There are murmurs and some whispered grumbling but they stand and follow.

Reborn takes that as a good sign.

.

* * *

 

.

It is a bit cold, when the only company he has after a successful meeting, is a glass of whisky and a comfortable armchair.

He exhales a little, unwinding the knots in his shoulders forcefully. The movement makes him aware of something heavy in his pocket. With a smirk, he reaches in and pulls out a jewelled hairpin.

It had been something that one of the women had worn. He'd gotten annoyed enough with her flirting that he'd lifted it off her. ( _Thief really wasn't part of the job description, but he could improvise when pressed for time.)_ The moment he'd seen it, he knew he wanted to see it on Hyacinth's hair.

The emerald gemstones would compliment her eyes really well and he knows she wouldn't question its origins.

"Reborn!" Tsuna exclaims and he sighs, mourning the loss of the silence.

"Baka-Tsuna," he answers without looking at the door. "I thought you'd retired for the night."

There is the rustle of cloth and the clinking of glass. Reborn rolls his eyes. His student really is too nice for his own good.

"I am not feeling lonely," he snaps at the brat.

Tsuna actually gives a sheepish laugh, which means he'd guessed what the brat was thinking accurately. _Hah!_ Mind reading? Tsuna was just that transparent.

"What is Hyacinth doing while you're here?" Tsuna asks instead.

If it were another man, they'd be dead because Reborn is an overprotective ass. ( _Yes, he would freely admit that_.) But Tsuna's question is sincere and earnest. This is why Reborn follows him.

"Following up a lead, I suppose," he says slowly. His lover had not told him what Luna's news was. He could extrapolate though, from the absence of laughter in her voice when she called him and the silence on the other end of Teddy's greetings.

The news she received wasn't good and in dealing with it, had come across something that made her murderously angry enough to want to hurt people.

"She will call me if she needs me," he finishes.

Tsuna smiles at him, a small one that shows he's touched by something.

"She's really nice," Tsuna says. "And she puts up with you. You're a good match."

Just on principle, Reborn shoots Tsuna several times on the head. His student shrieks and ducks, barely managing to dodge.

"You're a thousand years too early to match-make me, baka-Tsuna," he growls, standing up from his chair and making his student pale and run from the room in fright.

He laughs, putting aside his glass and giving chase.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth is fine, he knows.

His love could take care of herself. She is steel and fire, but sunshine and laughter too. There is more strength in her than could be found in most Mafiosi, but at the same time, more honor and kindness than anyone he ever knows, even Tsuna.

What makes him worry are the rare flashes of brittleness he sees in her face, of her sudden need to hold his hand and lean her weight on him. Those moments are rare and showing less and less, but it is still there. She spends the entire day fine but spends the entire night without sleep because something triggered nightmares. And she's not even aware of it half the time.

Raking a hand in his hair and sighing a little, he rolls to his side and settles his hand on his gun. It is the only comfort he has in sleeping in an unfamiliar environment.

He offers a stray thought to whatever deity listening, hoping she's fine.

.


	57. Lines

Hyacinth doesn't think of anything much as she cuddles Teddy for the night.

Instead, she allows herself to feel. She feels the soft linens and smell Teddy's freshly bathed scent. She watches his small body breathe in and out, his adorable face lax with sleep and hair shifting colors to match his dreams.

This is her reminder. This is what she is fighting for, this lovely boy whose heart loved her unconditionally.

When he is older, she knows he will no longer love her quite so innocently – so completely. So she relishes the time she has now, remembering because all the good things never last forever.

Tomorrow, she is going to wrestle with politics and obscure laws. Tonight, she will settle beside Teddy and remember. She recalls a dark smirk and curly side-burns and she blushes, wishing he is there with her.

.

* * *

 

.

Wandering around the Ministry and its archives reminds Hyacinth how many people her DA had actually encompassed.

She couldn't go around any Department in the Ministry without bumping into one former DA member. They all recognized her of course. And while Hyacinth is hesitant to cash in favors owed during war time (it was under duress, she will proclaim. No one owes her anything, not that people will ever agree to that.), she is working under a deadline and only has three weeks and four days left.

The archives are vast and she doesn't have the time to get lost in it.

Dennis Creevy, who lit up like a firework once he saw her, is the biggest help in this. She didn't know the mailman's son obsessively numbered every shelf in the archives. He preens like a bird when she expressed her disbelief.

Hyacinth manages an absent hug in his direction before hightailing out of the Ministry and spreading the papers on the floor of Rachel's living room.

The muggleborn witch looks startled at the papers before shrugging and continuing her paperwork with a calculator.

Hyacinth doesn't notice.

The numbers are spread out in front of her and it is starting to make sense.

.

* * *

 

.

"You didn't even like Arithmancy," is the first thing Hermione says once she sees what her friend is doing.

Hyacinth blinks up at her in a bewildered daze, eyes glazed over with numbers. Hermione is familiar enough with the sensation that she doesn't even feel irritated. That would be hypocritical.

"What?" she asks.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "What are you doing?" she asks instead.

Hyacinth shows her graphs and lines, Venn diagrams and pie charts. It's all gibberish, until it isn't. Hermione feels her heartbeat slowdown before speeding up again.

"That's…" she says slowly. "That's not good. And this has been going on for how long?"

Hyacinth does some quick calculations. Hermione feels a bit off-balance that she can't do math at all. (It's a bit troubling, because she isn't supposed to be _this slow_.)

"A year," Hyacinth answers. "At least a year. Maybe a year and a half?"

Almost two years of damage to be reversed. If they can disband the Red Eye at all. Its very existence is _legal_.

"Can we even dismantle them?" Hermione asks, feeling horrified as she says that thought out loud. "Haya, Malfoy is their Consulting Lawyer. It's as legal as it could get."

Hyacinth's grin is shark-like and Hermione is thrown back to the time when her friend had plotted to make Parvati Patil cry. And had succeeded in making the bully breakdown in the Great Hall.

"I don't care about legal," Hyacinth says with eyes that could cut through steel. "Nor do I care about their feelings. I care about Teddy and I care about you. This will hurt your children, Hermione."

And with a jolt, Hermione _understands_ what this is really about. She smiles as she embraces her friend.

"We have your back, Haya," she tells her. "Just call us when you need us, alright?"

Her hug is a little too tight, but Hermione doesn't mention it.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth doesn't understand their goal, but she can see what it's going to do.

The formative years of children go from ages one to ten. Impressionable children that easily mimic what is in front of them.

To force children to go between two parents and two cultures would create an unstable grounding and the high possibility of a morally ambiguous person.

It's literally a clean slate for anyone to try and manipulate someone.

And they're doing it to thousands of children.

She feels herself seethe, the anger lingering just under her skin.

But it doesn't help, so she settles into determination and starts networking and cashing in favors.

The Notts work with textiles, the Rosiers with farming and wines. She collects these information and sets out to _destroy_ their livelihoods.

It's not revenge. Just plain damn personal irritation on behalf of the thousands of children most likely confused out of their minds why they couldn't just stay with one parent.

After all, Xanxus didn't just stay asleep on her sofa whenever he visited and Reborn isn't a nice man, no matter how sweet. They taught her about sabotage and blackmail – all the terrible things that wizards didn't usually bother with, because curses did the work for them.

It's not the work of a day, or a week. She recruits some of the morally bent people in the DA and request them to put a bowel loosening powder in Avery's drink, ruining his reputation. Asking some of them to "loose" Jugson's shipment of cattle. Or firecalling Krum to ask him if it was possible to sink ships with a remote spell. Sudden weather changes that could damage a sugar mill were her favorite.

In some ways, the Red Eye helps them to ruin. They gamble and drink as they start to lose money and their respectability. Hyacinth is too pleased with the results to mind that things are being hurried along with their own bad habits.

.

* * *

 

.

Hermione and Ron helps in doling out the last strike.

Ron 'found' them guilty of something, and Hermione arrested them. Hyacinth didn't even have to plant anything. All of the Red Eye were, after all, Dark Pureblood families. They had housed enough dangerous artifacts to be imprisoned for a long time.

Hyacinth preened like a cat when she read the news and Teddy settles beside her, a warm weight that squirmed and smelled like chocolate.

"Can we go home now?" Teddy asks, the perceptive little thing that he is.

Hyacinth beams at him, scoops him up and peppers his face with kisses.

"Sure," she answers. "But won't you miss Rachel?"

Teddy gives her such an exasperated look that she has to hold back her laughter.

"Haya," he says patiently. "Rachel can always visit. Reborn will miss us." Then there is a sniffle and Hyacinth wants to hug the living daylights out of him even as a part of her feels so proud at him for taking Reborn's lessons in subtle manipulation well. "I miss your food, Haya."

That settles it.

She pulls him towards her and pretends to miss the smirk he presses to her shirt.

.

* * *

 

.

Moving out is somehow harder than moving in.

Mippy helps, but what Hyacinth really needs assistance on is prying away the people that have somehow gotten used to her presence for the past month. There is a reason why she'd left so abruptly and half of it was only to avoid Hermione's screeching lecture.

Her biggest hurdle are the Weasley's. Little Victoire Weasley gives her big, sad blue eyes that leak a bit of water and Hyacinth feels herself waver. Percy and George looks at her long and hard, before squeezing the life from her.

She loves all of them but she needs to be in her house, with its Enchanted Forest and it's numerous inhabitants. Most of all, she missed Reborn.

So she says goodbye and pulls Teddy with her.

.

* * *

 

.

[EXTRA SCENE:]

Reborn arrives earlier than his lover and is just grateful she left the wards open for him.

He regrets arriving early within two minutes. The house, empty of its mistress, is cold and unwelcoming. It doesn't smell of the chocolate she constantly baked with, nor does it smell of paint and turpentine. It smelled too clean.

So he starts rooting around the kitchen, looking for a recipe book. Hyacinth couldn't have memorized _all_ of her recipes, could she?

Half-way into peering into cupboards, he opens the highest shelf and nearly topples over in shock.

Mippy blinks at him innocently.

"What is Master Reborn doing?" she asks.

He pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation.

"I'm looking for her cookbook," he tells her. "She must have put it here somewhere."

Mippy laughs at him before vanishing with a crack. Reborn knows it is too much to hope that she'd gone to fetch it for him.

Somehow, Mippy had the strangest reaction every time he said he wanted to cook. Something akin to a mixture of pure terror and abject hilarity.

.


	58. Reassurance

There is the familiar shape of Reborn on the dining table, feet propped on a stool and fingers methodically cataloguing knives.

Hyacinth feels her heart swell with giddy relief and immense joy. He is a sight to behold, arms bare and rippling with every movement. It's ridiculous, but even the shape of his back is familiar to her.

"Welcome home," he says, not even stopping his movements.

Of course he had known, she thinks. He had nearly unnatural senses.

"It's good to be back," she tells him. He turns and his eyes are warm, a small smile on his face that he usually reserved for when they were alone. It made her stomach feel all kinds of fluttery.

That is as far as they got. Teddy squirms out of her hands and runs all the way to Reborn, burying his colourful head on the man's legs.

He laughs and everything is alright again.

.

* * *

 

.

Teddy is babbling a mile a minute, talking about everything he did with Rachel, with Mippy, with the new toy broom and everything else he could think of.

Reborn allows it to wash over him and he feels more relaxed than anything. The last knots of tension he had from the shoot-out that had happened at the end of the treaty fades away. Of course, the sight of his beloved slicing and chopping something helps.

She is a wonderful sight, all clean efficiency and brisk movements, nothing wasted and the very air smelling of cinnamon and other spices, pushing away the scent of nearly unnatural cleanliness in their house.

"Reborn," Teddy whines. "Are you listening to me?"

He smirks at the boy. "Yes. So you unwound all of string and left it tangled in dough. Go on."

Teddy beams. "Yep. And Rachel steps on it and she screams real-ly loud!"

Hyacinth sends him an exasperated look and that's familiar and endearing too. "Don't encourage him," she complains.

.

* * *

 

.

It feels like nothing changed, except there is something that did.

It is in the way Hyacinth looked at him, and the way Teddy clung to his hand.

It did not escape his notice that Hyacinth, for all her smiles and laughter, had yet to touch him.

He pretends nothing is wrong and catalogues everything different, with her and with Teddy. He does not worry, because she does not avoid his eyes. If anything, she meets his stares head on and does not falter.

The fighter that usually lurked behind her eyes is gone though, leaving only the woman with world-weary eyes behind.

He resolves to remove that look in her eyes immediately.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth allows Teddy to run himself ragged, allowing only a spare few seconds to call Mippy to tuck the boy in bed, before she is dragged by the hand to their bedroom.

A hot mouth is already working its way down her neck and she feels her mind clearing of all thought. Any other doubt she has is washed away, the unthinking, shrill words spoken of Reborn's fickleness banished.

It is in the way he holds her and the way he kisses her. He holds her like he is afraid to hurt her, hands always gentle despite their surety. He kisses her like he is breathing air, desperate but never hurried. He kisses her slowly and carefully.

His clever fingers twist and her last thoughts vanish with a gasp.

.

* * *

 

.

Reborn plays with her fingers, his other hand absently stroking one of the scars on her forearm. He wonders how that happened, given that it went deep enough to strike bone.

"What bothered you?" he asks her.

She goes still and he can tell given that he is pressed to every inch of her. She breathes out and he takes it as a good sign that she has not yet pulled away.

"It's nothing," she mutters. "Just something ridiculous."

He squeezes her hand in warning, because he will not have her believe he didn't care about her fears. "Hyacinth," he says softly, intently.

She shrugs. "You can't promise me this," she tells him slowly, voice hushed. Like she is afraid of the words she is speaking. "You can't promise not to leave me. I know you will, eventually."

The breath is stolen from his lungs. He feels indignant and a little offended that she thought so little of him.

"I promise not to leave you," he says, just to contradict her.

Hyacinth sits up, eyes narrowed and fingers clenched. "You will. You're an _assassin_ , Reborn. You will slip up and – " she couldn't continue.

Reborn feels like trash. He wraps his arms around her and waits until the thundering pulse he could feel from her wrist settles down.

They had never talked about this before and somehow that makes it even worse, makes it feel raw and new.

"Mrs. Weasley said," Hyacinth says, words venomous and angry. "That it was only a matter of time until you left me, pregnant. I told her – " her breath hitched a little. "I told her that if you did leave me, it would not be done voluntarily. And I'm right, aren't I?"

She is clinging to him then, hands tight and almost painful.

"Yes," he says, and the words feels like dragged out of him.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth feels his capable fingers caressing her hair and she sighs.

"Everybody has a rate of death," he says. He sounds flippant but his eyes are serious and intent on her. "And maybe mine is a bit higher than other peoples. But I am the best at what I do, _Tesoro_. I wouldn't take on a job with too much risk. I know better than that." His thumbs caress her cheeks. "After all, you are here and I'd rather not make you wait."

It's ridiculous, but she feels better.

Just to be contrary, she says, "I don't _wait_."

His smile is annoyingly knowing.

.

* * *

 

.

By the next morning, he finds her by the big windows, and though it makes his shoulders twitch (because how often had he sniped someone through windows?), he wraps an arm around her stomach and tries to enjoy the scenery.

Her smile is as pleased and smug as a cat and it should concern him a little that he doesn't find that worrying. But there is no sign of the distraught woman that had held him in her sleep despite the deep, bruise-like bags under her eyes and that is all that matters to him.

"What has you so happy?" he asks after he takes in his fill of her warmth.

She laughs, a low and wicked sound that sent heat straight down his groin. "You have no idea what I did in England."

He raises an eyebrow. "I'm not sure I want to know, but go on, tell me."

She narrates to him everything, from her investigations and how she went about systematically destroying the lives of several men – and their families.

Reborn swallows, trying to wet his suddenly dry throat.

"I hope you have no plans for today," he growls in her ear. Thinking about how she went about it, with the methods he had taught her...it is enough to have him distracted and he isn't even asking about the specifics yet.

Hyacinth's smile is deliciously sly, like she knows what she's doing. Of course she does, the minx.

In a rare mood, he scoops her up in his arms, startling her into laughter as she clings to his shoulders.

.


	59. Nexus

It feels like nothing changed at all as they settle back into a routine.

Hyacinth still baked, painted or gardened according to the mood that struck her. Teddy still played, studied and exceeded all of their expectations with the extra lessons he had in Reborn's shed. Reborn still unwound, took long walks in the forest and trained.

In a way, the change isn't something obvious.

It is in the way Hyacinth no longer fell silent every time he left, or the way her body doesn't angle towards the first-aid kit when he comes home after a job. She is still alert for any signs of injuries and she still frets over him when the weather promises to be cold, but she no longer let's her worry take over her imagination.

Reborn didn't know how worried she was until she isn't and he could see her sleeping better.

He wonders what he did to deserve a woman who _cared_ and finds he can't answer that.

.

* * *

.

"What is that?" Reborn asks, trying to read over her shoulder.

She swats him away reflexively, not even sparing him a glance as she continued to fill in forms.

"It's for an advert," she says absently. "I'm opening next week. My studio that is. I have enough paintings stored that I don't have to worry about filling in the empty spaces. I just have to worry if anyone will buy my art."

Reborn has no rejoinder and Hyacinth is suspicious, having enough experience that a silent Reborn was plotting something and she tells him so.

He shrugs and then smiles. It looks so innocent that she immediately doesn't believe him. "Vongola does have a legitimate corporation," he says. "Construction and all that legal farce. Occasionally, we sponsor things and they get famous. I'll put in a word for you with Lal Mirch."

She wants to say no because she doesn't really want to be connected to the _mafia_ , let alone Vongola. Still, any help is welcome since she had set a budget for herself so she doesn't overspend.

"Just..." she says reluctantly, feeling like she is signing a contract with her soul as payment. "Just make sure they don't go overboard with it, okay?"

His delighted laughter does nothing to abate her worry at all.

.

* * *

.

When she asks Reborn if she could ask some of his associates whether she could borrow a van to transfer the paintings from the house to the studio (because the shrinking charm did something terrible to the paint, never mind the canvass itself), she didn't expect the van to arrive to be a large silver van with a shiny Vongola Logo emblazoned on the side.

There's a camera inside the van that she does her best to ignore and a set of shelves that seem to be tailor made to hold a canvass.

She gives her lover a look and he kisses her hand, practically an admission from him.

"You're spoiling me," she sighs. "Okay, you great lump, get the bubble wrap and the rest of it."

The driver is looking at her with wide-eyes and had murmured something like 'frying pan' though she isn't sure she heard that right.

.

* * *

.

Reborn, having missed his lover and the act of spoiling her for a month, holds nothing back as he assists her with her studio.

He installs all the lighting after glancing at the blueprints. When she'd glared at him for that, he buys her a packet of flower seeds that he knows she doesn't have in her garden yet.

When he starts to find her rummaging through boxes and leafing through pages and pages of notes, he confers with Mippy and converts one of the guest bedrooms into an office, with a filing cabinet and a new computer.

Hyacinth _stares_ at the converted bedroom and he fidgets in the background, exchanging a look with the house-elf beside him that he would swear isn't nervous later.

"You marvellous, brilliant man," she finally exclaims. "However did you read my mind?"

He exchanges a discreet high-five with Mippy and accepts the kisses Hyacinth bestows on him with delight.

"Now," she tells him, dragging a chair over and looking at the computer with trepidation. "I know that's a computer, but what does it do?"

 _Right. She's a witch_ , he thinks, having forgotten how ignorant she is of the rest of the world.

.

* * *

.

The day of the opening, there are more than dozens of Mafiosi scattered all over the crowd going in and out of the building.

They all do a double take once they see him and discreetly signal something.

It is with amusement that he watches several exchanges happening inside the building, hidden under the guise of the opening party. Briefcases, information and in some cases, recruitment.

With a jolt, he realizes that he had inadvertently made Hyacinth's studio into a mafia-neutral zone after he witnesses one pair of Mafiosi exchange hostages and money. More than one pair actually.

He hopes he had established enough influence that they won't try anything. If any of Hyacinth's paintings are damaged in any shoot-out, he knows she would do something _drastic._ He can't even promise to stop her, because he'd be right beside her, trying to minimize the damage.

(Slightly unlikely that, he'd be more the type to help along.)

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth hears the tell-tale sound of apparition and knows she has magical visitors. The wards tingle on her senses, informing her of the number. Three.

She readies her wand and turns.

"Hell – Hermione! Ron!" she exclaims.

She had expected Rachel, but not her best friends. They look windswept and flushed, eyes bright and curious.

"I love the weather," Hermione says. "If my job was flexible enough, I'd move here."

Hyacinth laughs and drags them inside. "Come in, there's food. However did you know? Rachel, did you tell them?"

Rachel's smile is pleased. "Of course not, Miss Potter. Young Master Lupin told them."

That Teddy actually remembered something she is sure she only mentioned to him in passing warms her immeasurably.

"Oh, that boy," she can only manage. "Look around and tell me if there's anything you like. It's gonna be under a discount."

It is only when they are walking around does she remember that she had Reborn tucked somewhere, keeping an eye on the crowd and likely being very intimidating.

"Oh dear," she mutters, though she is hopeful that her friends and Reborn will get along better than last time.

.

* * *

.

She tallies up her sales for the day and preens at the result, admiring the nice, round number. She'd more than made up for the cost of her education for a few months, and likely would pay back everything she took from Sirius's vaults for it before the year is over.

Hyacinth loves it, because while she is rich enough not to work, she does not like to think of several descendants that would curse her for her frivolity.

"Good haul?" Reborn drawls, almost making her jump.

She scowls at him, before it melts away at the sheer force of her giddy happiness.

"Really good haul," she agrees. "I got some pretty decent commissions too, though I drew the line at naked women. What were you glaring at the whole time though?"

He is silent, and she knows his moods enough to tell that he is debating something in his head. Most probably what to tell her.

"Go on," she prods. "Just tell me if you can't tell me."

It stings a little bit, because she thought they'd dispensed of secrets already. Sure, there are still some things that both of them couldn't talk about, but that is mostly because those are the sort of secrets that burned like anything and tasted like ash. They had to be told slowly, or not at all.

He narrows his eyes at her. "I may have done something, though...well, you won't be happy with me, _Tesoro_ ,"he sighs.

She raises one eyebrow and is bemused that he actually looks alarmed for a split-second.

"Your studio has somehow become mafia neutral ground," he grounds out. "I just watched several transactions happen in the space of one day."

.

* * *

.

Reborn watches as her other eyebrow joins her raised one and tries not to feel intimidated.

Mostly, that's because his lover has a terrifying poker face and while he is a hitman, he is _male_ and it really can't be helped that he sometimes found her with _moods_.

This one is a bit easier to understand though. The studio is _hers_. And he'd somehow included it into mafia-knowledge.

If she sets him to trimming over-grown branches...well...there's a reason he and the bowtruckles never got along well.

Instead, she blows all his imaginations out of the water when:

"So that's why Ron said you were glaring at everything that approached me, looking all suspicious and such," she says, voice wondering. "It might have affected sales...and that's why that man was twitching when he paid for a painting!"

He manages to stop himself from asking, _you're not angry?_ because he has better survival instincts than that. Instead, he says, "I don't suppose you can... _add_ something to ensure your safety here? The probability of you being targeted now is low, what with Vongola's crest on your studio, but there will be causalities if they forget themselves."

Hyacinth suddenly smiling like a wolf is something that he finds so distracting.

"Oh, I'll take care of that," she says, patting his arm fondly. "Don't worry, love. And thank you for making this... _interesting."_

Well, that is one way of putting it.

.


	60. Establishment

The first incident happens when Hyacinth is manning the desk and not one of Rachel's hand-picked assistants.

As discreet as the Mafiosi using her studio as a meeting point try, there are still some of them that are just too naughty and hot-tempered for diplomatic things. And then things like tense stand-off's happen.

With a flick of her fingers, the runes carved behind the paintings come to life and cover everything, even the half-finished canvass she has on the side.

The unfortunate Mafiosi also touching the wall falls to the floor with a screech as the electric shock kicks in.

Hyacinth barely manages to cover her smirk when the meeting goes swimmingly well after that.

.

* * *

.

Reborn thinks his eyes might have gone a bit wide. At least he isn't gaping unattractively like Shamal.

"What?" Shamal croaks. "So you're the reason why the Bessio and their treaty with the Russian's went through?"

It ends nearly in a croak. Or a gasp of horror.

Reborn feels a bubble of laughter welling in him. It's contested by incredulity. He's finding that his lover inspires that feeling in him often.

"It was an accident," she says, waving away Shamal's horrified awe. "I didn't even know what that combination of runes would do...though electric shock is surprisingly mild, coming from Hermione. I wonder what Luna's suggestions do."

.

* * *

.

The answer comes when there's an actual shoot-out.

Her customers are getting a bit too used to sitting down and knowing that the bullets just roll over them if they sit still and calmly wait for things to get it over with.

She's actually not happy they're using guns though, and so near her portrait of the forbidden forest in its moonlit glory. (It is one of the few she dedicated to Peter Pettigrew, because at the end of everything, even he had wavered and paid for it.)

The runes activate soundlessly and as the bullets continue firing, the noise slowly going away until its complete silence.

No, it's really complete silence. The guns turn to toy guns in a shower of blue sparks, and the Mafiosi are suddenly incapable of making any sounds.

When they attempt to continue things with their fists, Hyacinth's eyebrows go up when they all do a group hug instead; despite the struggles saying their bodies were doing it without their tacit agreement.

She laughs when they walk out sulkily but is vastly amused when they begrudgingly shake hands.

.

* * *

.

"Mafia-neutral my ass," Reborn remarks when he hears the story of that days mishap. " _Tesoro_ , you might as well call it Mafia Miracle or something."

Hyacinth shrugs. "I really didn't know how it happens. Luna's runes were strange. She made them do group hugs! Group hugs, Reborn!"

He knows she's not really complaining. There's an aura of complete enjoyment on her as she goes about completing commissions.

"Are you visiting tomorrow?" she asks. It's not often that he could get away to visit her studio, and both of them hadn't wanted people to know he frequented it. But Reborn's presence mitigated any misbehaving and she really wanted to go a week where she didn't have to use magic. Somehow, or maybe she was just out of practice, using magic tired her out.

He leans over to kiss her, wiping a thumb over the dark circles under her eyes.

"Of course," Reborn says. "I always have time for you, my dear."

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth doesn't actually have to defend herself until it happens when she's painting by the back of the studio and somehow, the naughty sods decide to do their hostage situation then and there, with her as the hostage.

She rolls her eyes after she shakes away the haze of painting that had come over her.

With an efficient elbow and a decisive kick, she gets free. To keep it that way, she kicks her would-be captor in the balls without hesitation.

When he crumples with a near-feminine cry, the others watching slowly raise their hands and drop their weapons. She finds that really strange since the only thing she's equipped with is a paint brush and high heels.

"Really gentlemen," she mutters. "This is a studio. Behave yourselves."

She shoos them out, pointedly eyeing the ones lagging behind. When someone tries something else, doing a grab for her, she reaches for the frying pan hidden in the Undetectable Extension Charm in the pocket of her apron.

The man, upon seeing the frying pan, goes bone white and almost faints. Hyacinth wants to give him a hot compress and a chair.

.

* * *

.

"Are you feeling well?" Reborn asks.

It is a valid question. It is the fourth night in a row that she wakes up in the middle of the night to get tea. He is too used to her warmth beside him not to wake up as well.

She wipes a hand over her forehead. "It's nothing. Just...bad dreams I suppose. And that shrimp. I knew I should have thrown it out."

Reborn throws a blanket around her shoulders. "You don't usually cook shrimp," he points out. "And you're distracted. Maybe you should take a day off."

She leans against him and Reborn wants to shake her. She usually didn't get cuddly when she wasn't feeling well. The alarm bells ringing in his head reaches new decibels.

"Naughty Mafiosi," she moans to his shoulders. "Can you ask Lal for something? I thought Mafia-neutral meant _neutral_."

He can't help it. He snorts. "For the given value of the word neutral, _Tesoro_. I'll ask Lal Mirch. She isn't supposed to leave new investments alone anyway."

.

* * *

.

Reborn is as good as his word. The very next day, there are two someone's lounging on one of the benches.

Kyoko and Hana, the former in a flowery sundress and the latter in a sharp business suit with creases so sharp that she could cut cheese on it.

"Good morning," she greets, keeping the surprise out of her voice.

Kyoko's smile is cherubic and Hana's is respectfully curt. Hyacinth can already guess why Lal sent the two of them and she's proven right when Kyoko's smile keeps hostilities from escalating due to sheer... _niceness_ and Hana's no-nonsense attitude keeps all meetings from disintegrating into petty insults.

(Hyacinth is half in-love with both women by the end of the morning. She didn't know even a quarter of the insults Hana uses and she admires the casual way Kyoko just _looks_ at the men and have them sit obediently.)

Mainly though, they are Vongola and quell rising arguments by just their presence alone.

It's a wonderful thing to be able to paint and not worry about being held hostage.

_(She has enough of being_ _ bound _ _, thank you very much. She'd rather die than be bound again.)_

Hyacinth finishes a fair amount of commissions and treats the women to dinner.

She ends up hearing about the Vongola Decimo's Guardians and their many vices and their few but lovely virtues.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth's smile is a little disturbing given that it's a bit _too_ amused, but Reborn finds that better already with the absence of the almost insomniac look she had been sporting.

"I didn't know you cosplayed!" she exclaims. "Why don't you ever dress-up in the house?"

The laughter in her voice is good-natured and the glint in her eyes promises a lot of chaos.

"My stash is...pretty strange," he admits to her. He wants to cringe, except he's been wanting to share this with her. He even kept some matching outfits.

"Can I see?" she asks. "I promise I'll be careful with it."

He leads her to the back of the closet, and she's not even showing any surprise at its location. He vaguely wonders if he's getting predictable.

Of course she homes in to the brightest and most colourful outfits. The Japanese Kimono's and the Chinese Quipao's. Reborn obliges her by gently draping the fabrics over her and grabbing the customized umbrella he had made within a fortnight of moving in her house. It is a dark shade of lavender that compliments her skin and he doesn't bother to hide a proud smile.

"Lovely," he announces, making a blush rise up her cheeks. "There's a Convention next month. Want to come with me?"

Her beaming smile is enough of an answer.

.


	61. Reciprocation

Between one breathe and the next, Reborn is awake.

The space where Hyacinth sleeps is empty and a quick check tells him it is recently vacated.

" _Tesoro_ ," he mutters, not exactly a complaint. But it is a bit difficult, given that she had been having a restless night for a week. Not even a Comic Convention stalled her restless nights. (Though she had looked lovely as Persephone from the Greek Mythology.)

"Here," she whispers and he finally finds her silhouette by the window, hands busy sketching something by the light of the moon.

He gets up wearily, because even he can't function on two hours of sleep every night for a week without some effects.

"What is it?" he asks, hooking an arm around her waist and resisting the urge to drape a blanket on her. She is cold and not even shivering, eyes trained on her paper behind rarely used spectacles.

"I had a dream," she says. "And...well, we have a class in Hogwarts. It's usually nothing. But some dreams are prophetic."

He peers at the paper, his eyesight significantly better than hers and he feels himself freeze at the sight of a pacifier. He takes another breathe and relaxes when he notices other details, like how it's not strung up, or it looks completely different from the burden he had borne for so many years.

"What's that then?" he asks in a bid to calm his galloping heart.

She shoots him an annoyed look over her shoulder. "It's not that easy to decipher these things. Ron's better at this than I am."

He smirks into her hair. Finally something better than her glazed eyes and a distant expression.

Reborn gives it one last look and shakes his head. It is a bewildering jumble of images and while some are familiar, most of it are blurry and disjointed.

"Don't stay up too late," he tells her, nibbling bites down her shoulder.

She nods, eyes absent again but her breath stutters.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth holds on to her fraying temper, but it is a difficult thing to do.

A few weeks ago, a collector had finally taken notice of her art and spread the word. It had the annoying side effect of students other budding artists coming into her building, asking for their art to be displayed with some percentage going to her.

Unfortunately, this makes her afternoon crowd very loud, as her contemporaries are rather young people.

"This is not a bar," she says quietly, making the teenagers freeze. "This is a place of art and beauty. While music may be beautiful in most forms, it is not appreciated in this building."

When they move to argue, Hyacinth takes a deep breath and unclenches her hands, giving a very sweet smile. "Of course," she continues. "If you insist on continuing your music, I will have to remove you from the premises. Forcibly."

The four-inch heels she taps on the floor takes a sudden, menacing air, as well as the jeweled hairpins holding her hair out of her face.

"Your pardon, _mademoiselle,_ " they mutter, scrambling to get out of the studio in a hurry.

"Now that they are out of the way," she says under her breath in relief. "We can go back to business, girls."

Her secretaries look to be in awe. Hyacinth just wants a hot bath and a foot massage. Teenagers are so difficult to deal with.

.

* * *

.

Reborn takes one look at her face and pats the sofa beside him.

Hyacinth groans as she lays her head on his lap, hair free of its pins and tumbling down his legs, almost to the floor.

"Hard day?" he asks, slightly amused.

"Teenagers," she says the word like a curse.

He stifles a laugh but his hands never stop moving, carefully brushing out her hair and scratching her scalp.

"You know, you don't have to go there, right? You can keep painting in the house and leave the selling to the girls," he points out.

The girls, who both had a complete crush on Reborn. Hyacinth mainly found it amusing, because Reborn wasn't really _nice_ , and if you expected otherwise, you were in for a rude shock. Occasionally though, he was very sweet and that was what the girls usually saw.

"I don't _have_ to," she agreed on the point. "But what am I to do all day? I already home-school Teddy, and until he gets to be seven, it's all theory. Mippy can take care of theory."

He sighs. "I don't suppose rowdy teenagers will put you off working there?"

Hyacinth finally levers herself off the sofa to look at him.

"Are you..." she trails off.

He sags on the cushions and looks up the ceiling. "No, I am not feeling neglected."

Hyacinth stares for a moment more, before she gives a small, secret smile, laying down again. "Okay. So you aren't. Let's go to Hogwarts in your next day-off. When is that, exactly?"

Reborn's clever fingers tug at her hair before settling on the nape of her neck. "This Saturday." He peers down at her and she is still smiling.

.

* * *

.

She really has been neglecting him, Hyacinth realizes as she thinks back on it.

Maybe it's a subconscious thing, but she didn't mean to do it. Coming back from the dealing with the Red Eye, and then opening her studio because the magical and muggle paperwork finally got finished.

And to think, he had been busy with those Vongola Treaty's as well and neither had seen each other in a month – or near it, anyway.

According to something from Lily Potter's journal, _Relationship's worked because of ninety-five percent effort and five percent love._

Reborn had pampered her and she hadn't reciprocated.

Time to change that, she thinks.

.

* * *

.

Reborn smells dinner wafting through the house and stops working on files sent by Hayato.

It's the distinct scent of spices and white wine and he lets his nose lead him to the dining table, where dinner is served.

He feels a bit speechless, looking at the array of food. All of it Italian and he may have, at one point, mentioned that he was partial to.

"What's the occasion?" he asks warily.

Hyacinth, wearing sheer stockings, a small skirt and a white blouse underneath the apron, smirks at him.

"Nothing. I'm just feeling the urge to cook for you," she says sweetly.

Oh no, he isn't falling for the sweetness. He'd seen her smile the exact same way before punching people in the gut for making her godson scared.

"Right," he says slowly, but sits down and eats it anyway, because there is nothing more insulting to a chef than to not eat their food.

Midway through the meal, when he is plowing through Pappardelle with Veal Ragù, he realizes he is being seduced by his impish lover. Because Teddy and Mippy are nowhere in sight and she is wearing easily removable clothing.

He raises an eyebrow at her and her smile answers everything.

"Well this is a first," he says, stifling the urge to fidget, or adjust his pants.

She laughs, a low and mischievous sound. "I thought about it, and I realized I never cooked your favorites, not really. And yesterday, you were feeling neglected and..."

He wants to say, 'No, he isn't feeling neglected', even if it's a lie, but the wicked glint in her eyes, as well as the wine working to relax him, makes him give in.

Mostly, his lover doesn't need to work to get him to bed, but he appreciates the effort nonetheless.

"You little minx," he growls, standing up. "Come here."

With another laugh, Hyacinth pushes her plate away and sits on the table.

.


	62. INTERLUDE II

 

* * *

Neville Longbottom is re-plotting mandrakes when a hand waving outside of the greenhouse catches his attention.

"Haya, wha – " he murmurs, before an opportunistic baby mandrake latches on his finger and bites down.

Hurriedly, he wedges a stick in the mandrakes mouth. Mandrake bites, while not poisonous, tend to be rather deep.

When he manages to look up again, she's already inside, towing her muggle behind her. Both of them sported pink earmuffs.

Carefully checking that there aren't any mandrake mouth's outside of the soil, he removes his own sensible black earmuffs, one without any frills or pink anywhere.

"What brings you back here?" he asks when she is close enough.

Hyacinth smiles at him. "I wanted to give Reborn a tour of the castle."

Neville checks the position of the sun, and gives her a look. "If you wait for another ten minutes, you'll miss the transfer of classes."

By the moue of distaste on her face, she remembers as well as he does how hectic that is, with students going to and fro, with no care who they bumped into.

"Alright then," she concedes the point. "I'll start with the kitchens. If Kreacher catches me, it will likely take more than ten minutes."

They move out, both of them walking slowly and enjoying the rare moment of sunshine that showed in Scotland.

Neville stares for a few more moments, before going back to his mandrakes.

Haya did have a way of making the ridiculous seem logical. Muggles _really_ weren't supposed to be in the castle at all, except for the rare moments that the Headmaster agreed to it.

.

* * *

.

Kreacher senses his mistress before she even opens the kitchen door and is already running full tilt towards her knees by the time she steps into the kitchen.

"Mistress Haya!" he shrieks. "You is here! You is comes!"

His mistress gives a laugh and kneels to give him a proper hug. A part of Kreacher is scandalized at the act. His mistress, kneeling!

"It is good to see you again, Kreacher," she tells him, voice warm and sincere. "How are you? Working for Hogwarts has done you some good, at least."

He discreetly wipes his tears away on his tea cozy and beams at her. While a part of him always called her a Half-Blood blood traitor, another part of him rejoiced in her destruction of the Last Wish of Dear Master Regulus.

"Kreacher is happy. Has Mistress Haya eaten? Of course not, you don't care if you go and poor Kreacher will be all alone in the world…" he starts and his mistress interrupts him with another laugh.

"Mippy didn't dare let me leave the house without some food," she says. "Waffles with some kind of fruit shake."

Kreacher wants to shake his head at her. Of course she needed fruits. Didn't she feel it? But then again, Mistress Haya might have been too busy to notice.

"At least that upstart is good for something," he concedes, then adds under his breath, "ungrateful little she-elf."

His mistress chuckles and pats him on the head.

"We could use some scones to go with us as we walk around," the muggle says, arms around her waist.

Kreacher shoots him a dirty look, but is distracted when half-a-dozen of his kin move forward with the aforementioned basket.

"I'll give Reborn a tour," she tells the kitchen at large. "Thanks for the food, you guys. And Kreacher, you can always visit when you want to."

Kreacher doesn't want to, actually, what with that ungrateful she-elf working for his master. But he musters a smile for her as she goes out of the door.

He still manages to give the muggle a complete look of disgust. Filthy wretched being, even if he was redeemable with his current use of Soul Fire.

He is only _slightly_ torn over the fact that the muggle might be the cause for his mistresses laughter. And her currently delicate state.

_Slightly._

.

* * *

.

Minerva McGonagall manages not to be too startled when James Potter's daughter, Hyacinth Potter, parades into his office with a muggle in tow. The muggle, fortunately, does not seem to be gawking inelegantly at everything but studying things with interest.

"Miss Potter," McGonagall sighs. "It is lovely to see you, my dear. But your companion..."

She trails off, waiting to see if there would be some guilty fidgeting.

Sadly, there isn't. Hyacinth just smiles at her impishly, a delighted grin on her face.

"I know it's not exactly...normal, but there aren't any laws that say Reborn can't. I checked with Hermione," she says quickly. "We just needed a day for ourselves, and we were wondering if...we could bring someone with us to the forest? Is Hagrid here? The Centaurs might not appreciate it, but I do miss feeding the Thestrals with Luna."

Well, that explained the mysterious boom on the Thestral population some three years ago.

"He isn't holding a class, if I remember correctly," McGonagall concedes. "But you have to check with him first. There might still be some Acromantulas left."

Hyacinth blows her a goodbye kiss as she leaves, pulling the muggle with her.

McGonagall pinches the bridge of her nose. Merlin curse that stone gargoyle for being too fond of Albus's passwords. It really made things too easy to guess, if one ate enough sweets.

.

* * *

.

"Haya!" Hagrid booms, spotting her from a mile away as he hauls the dead carcass of a wolf over his shoulder.

Hyacinth Potter laughs as she bounds forward, ignoring the half-bitten warning from her muggle companion. Hagrid enfolds her in his embrace, careful not to squeeze too hard. She is a woman and a rather delicate, wee thing.

"Look at ye," he says gruffly, patting her on the shoulders. "Bloomin' as lovely as the sunrise. Why, ye look so much like yer mother!"

Hyacinth sniffs. "Thanks, Hagrid. Though, Reborn and I were hoping to take a walk around the Forest? Should we avoid anything?"

Hagrid glances at the basket and he detects blood. "Oh, yer feedin' the thestrals then? I'd leave the centaurs alone, ye mind. This lump killed a female," he raises the dead wolf in emphasis. "And they've been extra...ye know?"

Hyacinth did know, having had more adventures in the Forest than a student rightly should.

"The acromantulas are fine," he continues. "They might be breeding, but I just fed 'em this guys pack, so they won't want to eat you. The thestrals are by the lake, so ye just head there, and don't take any detours."

Hyacinth moves forward to check the tree line for anything and the muggle lingers behind, walking slowly.

Hagrid's intuition perks up then, and he places a hand on the muggles shoulder. "Look," he tells the man. "Reborn, was it? Ye shouldnae let her use too much magic. She's a bit...delicate, right now."

Reborn frowns but his eyes are warm and resolute. Hagrid feels no fear in leaving James Potter's daughter with him.

"Yer a good man, Reborn," Hagrid pronounces.

.

* * *

.

The entire visit is a bit strange, to Reborn's point of view.

It wasn't the magic, or the moving staircases or even the talking pictures. He had fairly gotten used to the strange and the improbable, working with Tsunayoshi (who may or may not have worst luck than Hyacinth).

What made it feel strange, was how everybody, from the House-elves to the teachers, looked like they would agree to anything his lover said, even if she proposed to go skinny dipping in the lake (where there was a Giant Squid – hot _damn_.)

Ever since Reborn set foot into the place, everybody's eyes had glazed over when they glanced at him. Almost like an immediate dismissal. It felt more intentional though, and he intended to ask her why the only person who looked him in the eye and smiled at him properly, was a man who was far larger than anyone he had ever seen before. (Though apparently, he was half-giant. Who knew?) He has a rising suspicion as to why that is and he puts it at the back of his mind for later.

"The only people who can see thestrals," she is telling him. "Are those magical people who have seen death. But, Luna's accidentally found something to go around that..."

He cocks an eyebrow and immediately regrets agreeing to this when she produces winged sunglasses. It is colourful and just _something_ that goes against mafia elegance.

"Is the design really necessary?" he asks, sounding pained.

Her answer is a smile. Reborn swallows his groan and wears the glasses.

Immediately, the forests are filled with lights.

"Those are traces of magical use," she explains. "But the real deal breaker is that." She points to a place by the lake where the water is being drunk. Invisibly, he had thought, until wearing the glasses had made him see the skeletal, winged horses.

They looked something out of a nightmare but Reborns's nightmares are frankly a bit more horrifying than that and he manages to look at the creatures without fear.

"They have a certain elegance in them, don't they?" he says and he knows it is the right thing to say when she beams at him.

"They are the smartest creatures I have ever met," she tells him. "But people fear them because of how they are, so they are called portents of Death and shunned. If it wasn't for the Forbidden Forest, they'd likely be extinct."

She removes the covering on the basket and immediately, the thestral's raise their heads and home in on it. It takes a lot of strength for him _not_ to budge her out of the way.

"Smart?" he clarifies.

She pats the nearest one and it licks at her hand just like a horse. Reborn eyes the thestrals and they eye him right back.

"There is travelling by thestral," she explains. "You whisper where you want to go, and they would get you there faster than any broom in the world."

 _Why_ the wizards don't exploit this method of travel, where you didn't have to spin through fire, risk amputation of limbs, or dropping in an unknown country, is a complete mystery to him. Thestral travel sounds infinitely safer.

"Primo-damned prejudice," he mutters.

He jumps a moment later when he is nosed by a curious thestral, a young one with large, liquid eyes. Reborn finally understands what fascinates her with these creatures when it twines it's neck around Reborn's shoulder like an affectionate cat.

.

* * *

.

It may have been a bit ridiculous, letting Reborn wear the Snorckack Hunting glasses that Luna often made for those who subscribed to the Quibbler, but it is completely worth it just to see Reborn don it with such a look of disgust.

The winged, cheery yellow glasses go against everything Reborn is wearing, even if it is casual clothing.

Hyacinth hides a giggle in the neck of Mr. Muffin, one of Luna's favourite thestral.

"Do they only eat raw meat?" he asks.

"Yes, the bloodier, the better," she answers.

With a moue of distaste, though she knows it is mostly for the blood that is likely to drip down his expensive shoes than for the smell, he throws one chop of steak on the other side of the clearing. The thestrals that follow it are those that have no particular attachment to Hyacinth or Luna.

"Very smart indeed," he murmurs.

When the sun is blocked by clouds, and Hyacinth knows that means some intensely cold gale, she pulls him back to the castle.

"It's going to get really cold soon," she explains at his inquiring look. "Scotland isn't really warm. That sunshine earlier was practically an abnormality."

But, as they were about to breach the trees, Reborn stiffens and then she sees what made him stop.

"Unicorns..." she breaths. "What on earth..."

Hyacinth has no time to be in awe of their lovely silver coat, or the glimpse of pale gold she sees at the back, that signalled a baby unicorn because Reborn's body language is telling her that if the unicorns are dangerous, he would have no qualms pulling his gun on them.

"They're not dangerous," she whispers and he relaxes by a fraction. "I think they're curious. But they only approach women though, and usually virgins."

By the smirk that appears on his face, he is thinking that she is as far from a virgin as one could get.

"Shut up," she hisses and lets go of his arm to approach the lingering unicorn. He makes a noise of protest but she ignores him, because when she looks into the unicorn's eyes, she sees only curiosity and but with a sense of urgency.

The unicorn lowers his head to look her in the eye and she raises a hand to rub its neck affectionately. He prods her hand away and to go lower, and lower until she touches her own belly. He whickers at her belly and gives a unicorn's blessing, something she thought only happened in books.

"What – " she starts again, but the absolutely _knowing_ look in the unicorn's eyes tell her the rest.

She is pregnant.

 

 


	63. Joy

 

* * *

Hyacinth feels the words drift down her mind, but the meaning doesn't fully register until she repeats it to herself three more times.

When it does, she breaks into a smile so wide she can feel her cheeks straining.

The unicorn, message delivered, gives her one last look with its silvery eyes and departs with the rest of its kin.

She actually manages to walk back to where Reborn is hovering anxiously, eyes scanning her form carefully.

"Fine?" he asks her, shoulders tense.

Hyacinth gives in to the laughter bubbling up her throat and throws herself at him. He freezes for a moment in surprise before reciprocating.

"Haya?" he murmurs into her hair.

She enjoys the giddiness for a second more before she pulls back and beams at him.

"We're pregnant," she whispers in his ear, even if she wants to shout it to the tops of the trees, over a cliff and on the peak of a mountain.

In contrast to the sheer joy running through her veins, Reborn looks bewildered. "What," he asks. "Wait."

She waits for the words to find its meaning in him as it had in her and is alarmed when he pales so quickly, she could practically see the blood rush away from his face.

"You're pregnant," he murmurs back. " _Merda._ "

.

* * *

.

Reborn doesn't know how he manages to escort Hyacinth back to the castle for a medical check-up with the Medi-Witch, but he does and he comes back to himself beside a bed with Hyacinth lying on it, hands tangled with his and squeezing it in anticipation.

"You need to eat more vegetables," the Matron is saying, wand moving in complicated patterns and showing blurry pictures of a blurry fetus. "You're in perfect health, but you could do with more milk and more exercise."

Reborn chastises himself for the lapse in concentration and speaks up. "What about paint fumes?" he asks. "They've been known to be strong enough to cause damage."

The Matron gives him a long look, mostly to draw attention to Hyacinth's bare ring finger. He pushes the guilt of that at the back of his mind for later. And anyway, if he married her while she was pregnant; she would likely kill him for ruining the line of the wedding dress.

"Bubble-head charms," the Matron says eventually. "But you can't use too much magic while you're bearing, Hyacinth dear. You have a House-elf, don't you? I know you'll hate it, but it's only for nine months."

For the first time since hearing the news, Reborn sees Hyacinth scowl.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth is delighted, but she crashes from cloud nine rather spectacularly when she finds out that Reborn had conspired with Mippy to make sure she didn't have to do _anything._

When Hyacinth attempted to pull up some weeds from her vegetable garden, Mippy was there, stopping her, placing a shawl around her shoulders and gently pushing her back into the house. When Hyacinth tried to bathe Teddy, Reborn was there, shooing her away, saying that she needn't strain herself.

It doesn't take her long to catch on and Hyacinth finally throws a fit when they tried to stop her from baking and painting.

"No!" she yells, magic going haywire and cracking several glasses by the drying rack. "I am going to work and I'm going to bake and feed people. Don't you dare stop me!"

Reborn and Mippy share a helpless look. She glowers at both of them.

"Merlin, Morgan and Ulrich!" she exclaims. "What does painting require but sitting down and using my head? And baking is not stressful!"

They left her to it and Hyacinth bangs pots and pans as she arranges the kitchen to her specification.

Teddy, of course, is watching all of this in his corner, eyes wide but hair color a relaxed and happy shade.

"You should smile, Haya," Teddy finally comments as she measures flour. "Or else the food would be sad too."

She is reminded what she loves about Teddy and in that conjunction, why she loves Reborn and Mippy too.

.

* * *

.

It had been Reborn's confidence, his complete assurance of his place in the world that had attracted Hyacinth to him in the beginning. What had made her fall in love with him had been his complete gentleness with her and the flashes of bitterness that she often saw in his eyes.

It is that gentleness she sees as he cups her stomach, eyes pensive. She isn't imagining it though. She sees his fear.

"I'll be fine," she whispers to his bowed head. "And you'll be a lovely father."

He looks up, and the naked adoration in his face, his eyes, is enough to steal her breath away. She feels a flush slowly rising up to her cheeks.

"You think so?" he asks. "I hardly remember mine. He was barely there."

She squeezes his shoulders to soothe away the tension she notices belatedly.

"What do you think you've been doing for Teddy?" she queries. "It certainly isn't babysitting, love. He doesn't need even go to me for his nightmares anymore."

He puffs a small breath of laughter. "She will have to be strong though," he says eventually. "This child will probably have my enemies after her."

She raises one delicate eyebrow. "You sound so certain that it will be a 'she'."

He smirks. "Hitman's intuition," he says proudly.

Hyacinth covers up a cough. "Don't be so sure," she tells him. "All first born Potter have been male, with the exception of me."

He doesn't quite pout. _Not really._

.

* * *

.

It is at night when the discussion for a wedding comes. Unexpectedly, she's the one to start it, though in retrospect, she is never one to do things by halves.

"You don't have to marry me," she tells him as his arms surround her and his heat blankets her better than any sheet. "I mean, I know what everyone is thinking and it would be nice for the baby to have your name instead of mine, but if you're just forced into it because we forgot to use..."

She trails off when Reborn raises an eyebrow at her.

"Really," he says. "You think anyone can force me to do anything? My dear, I _want_ to marry you. If this hadn't happened, I would have asked you in a two more months."

She is obviously calculating days and she giggles. "You romantic Italian idiot. You wanted to propose on _Valentines Day?_ "

Reborn huffs and she giggles some more.

"Can you wait for after the baby is born?" she asks. "I don't want to have to accommodate a baby bump for when I'm picking a dress."

Just like he expected.

 _Wait..._ She'd just, in her own strange way, agreed to his proposal.

"It's alright. I didn't expect you to say yes," he says and it manages to come out steady and calm. He wants to shout or do something. The shot of happiness and adrenaline running through his system is something he hadn't expected.

She sits up, eyes lit up with a challenge. "You thought I would say no?"

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to distract himself from the sight of her shirt slipping down one shoulder. "Well..." he says slowly.

With a laugh, she leans down and kisses him, a deep and slow thing that means she wants it to go somewhere.

"This is absolutely alright for the baby, right?" he asks, panting at the effort of _restraint_.

She rolls her eyes at him. "You complete nutter. _Yes._ "

Obliging, he carefully rolls her over and begins exploring her collarbone.

 


	64. Blindsiding

 

* * *

"But," Hermione starts to say, looking bewildered. "You're _not_ getting married?"

Hyacinth waves a hand. "After the baby, Mione. You can't expect me to do look for a wedding gown _and_ account for the baby bump that will likely happen months after."

Hermione's expression moves from bewildered to outright flabbergasted. "There are such things called enchanted robes, Haya, and..." she trails off, seeing the look on her friends face. "You _are_ getting married in the wizarding world, right?"

Hyacinth just shrugs helplessly, unable to say that if Reborn got married without the knowledge of his _famiglia_ , they'd likely cause a riot.

"But," Hermione says, sounding more resigned than anything. "But the magical blessing, Hyacinth? You're chancing your marriage to be unhappy. Or unlucky."

Plain old superstitions, but Hyacinth had to answer Hermione before she had an aneurysm. "Err, about the blessing..." she starts reluctantly, deciding to tell Hermione about the Unicorn.

To her credit, Hermione didn't gape unattractively. She just blinks a couple of times in disbelief.

"You know, if it were someone else, I'd call them a delusional liar and that's that," Hermione manages eventually, voice dry. "But since this is _you_ we're talking about..."

"Hey," she had to protest. "I resent that. The things I get into aren't _that_ impossible."

" _Sure_ ," Hermione says. "And you just had to fall in love with the one muggle that somehow belongs in a group of unique individuals that _weaponized_ Soul Fire?"

No matter how much Reborn had explained it to her, it still sounds alarming and absurd to Hyacinth and she can guess how it sounds like to Hermione, who had read books about Soul Fire compatibilities.

"Oh shut up," she mutters.

Hermione's face morphs into a smirk that just makes Hyacinth nervous. "I can't wait to tell this to Mrs. Weasley. It would just prove her right."

"Hermione!"

"Well, not the leaving part. But you are pregnant, right?"

Hyacinth groans.

.

* * *

.

In Reborn's side of things, it involves a lot of beverage failures.

"Baka-Tsuna," Reborn says as a greeting while the rest of the _famiglia_ milled around the Tenth Generation Guardians having breakfast.

Some of them respectfully raise their coffee cups. Chrome, being the only one drinking tea, gives him a little nod.

"Good morning, Reborn," Tsuna says, wary because his Hitman Tutor didn't come to the Vongola HQ unless necessary anymore, not since moving in with his artist and her little demon godson.

Reborn casts one look around the room, notes that there is no one around that he doesn't know, since even the staff are familiar to him, and there are no strange Flame signatures around. A good thing too, since none of the Tenth Generation are sharp knives in the morning, except Hibari and Ryohei.

"Hyacinth is pregnant," he says simply and takes a step back to note the reactions with interest.

Tsuna is, of course, drinking coffee and inhales it down the wrong pipe in shock. Hayato actually makes a nice spray of coffee. Takeshi spits his milk across the table and it lands in Lambo's waffles. The Lightning brat doesn't notice; too busy choking on a bite of strawberries and cream. Hibari opens one eye and _looks_ at Reborn. Chrome drops her teacup and Mukuro wavers – huh, so he was only an illusion. Several maids drop things they're carrying. One footman walks into a pillar.

Ryohei is the only one who stands up and shakes his hand.

"Congratulations, Reborn!" he says and it's sincere.

Reborn allows himself to smile, a warm and rare smile that didn't appear often. This causes more shocked choking.

"Thank you. She's very...excited," he answers. It is a bit of an understatement to use that word, given that she had broken into song several times for the past few days in her happiness and her paintings were bright and colourful.

"Ah," Chrome starts, eye glancing around for something to say and finding no support at all from the men. "Congratulations. How far along is she?"

"A couple of weeks," he says, counting back in his head and recalling _when_ the baby was likely conceived. That causes him to smirk. Ah, lovely memory.

"Ugh," Lambo says. "Don't make that face. It's disturbing."

Reborn cocks an eyebrow that makes the brat pale. "Are you talking back now, brat?"

"Ah – "

"That was a surprise," Tsuna cuts in before Lambo could dig himself in the ground even deeper. "But it's a nice one. Congratulations, Reborn."

He leaves, message delivered. Now, he only has to guess which one of the ex-Arcobaleno will hear about it first and track him down.

.

* * *

.

"Ooh," Yuni says, eyes bright.

Beside her, Aria laughs. "Do you think we should send her a letter? A baby shower would be fine, right?"

Yuni laughs too, remembering the bright memory. That is one of the things that made her love being a descendant of a shaman. Knowing things ahead of everybody else is wonderful. "Uncle Reborn would have a fit, but Hyacinth would love it."

Behind them, Gamma pales, understanding the implications of the conversation.

.

* * *

.

"Feh" Xanxus growls irritably. "Stupid."

Squalo looks up. "Boss?"

The Varia Head looks inches away from breaking into the serious stuff. "Stupid letters."

That peaks Squalo's interest enough that he gets up and reads through the letter that had the Boss in a mood.

He feels ill. "The Sun Arcobaleno...has a brat." Scanning it one more time finally tells him the mother and he wants to pitch a fit too. The woman had been a terrifying thing, a strange mixture of delicate and deadly, smiles hiding razor sharp teeth but eyes kind enough to rival the Vongola Bastard. Add in Reborn...whatever their offspring would be...

" _Cazzo,"_ he mutters and accepts the glass of whisky his Boss pours him. He downs it in one shot, aching to get rid of the terror his imagination conjured.

.

* * *

.

There is a loud thump in the Boss's room, but given that Romario is used to his Boss's clumsy ways, he isn't too alarmed. He does hurry in bringing the serving tray.

"Boss?" he asks. "I have your dessert. What..." he trails off at the sight of his Boss on the floor, pale and shaking.

"What's wrong?" he asks, mind already thinking of poisons and their effects.

Dino moans to the floor. "The letter. Read the letter."

Romario humors his boss, though he is really worried about poisoning. That shaking isn't characteristic of his boss.

"Dear Cavallone Decimo," he murmurs. "Hmm..."

He finally gets to the part that likely made his boss fall from the chair and understands.

"Oh, so Reborn is expecting a child with...Miss Hyacinth," he says, conjuring up what he knows of the woman. Hyacinth Potter, who had opened up an art studio sponsored by Vongola (there was a rumor that any deal that happened there went off without a hitch).

"We should send him a letter of congratulations," he says out loud, making his boss whine. At the back of his head, he wants to coo. His boss is really so adorable. "Now, don't be like that. Reborn is going to become a father."

Dino wails. "A mini Reborn," he mumbles to the carpet. "A small Reborn. A baby that looks like Reborn...with a mini gun and a chameleon and...Romario, I think I'm feeling ill."

.

* * *

.

Tsuna is in the same straights, however composed he had acted in front of his Hitman Tutor.

He hunts down Enma and wails, sounding shockingly like his old school self.

"Enma," he moans. "Reborn! With a kid...that looks like him, _small_. And if I know my tutor, he'd dress up that baby in a suit and give him a gun and...Teddy was bad enough and..."

Enma Cozart blinks his unique red eyes and remembers the baby hitman tutor that had a hair trigger temper, the baby Arcobaleno that exacted standards and sowed chaos wherever he went. He commiserates, remembering the terror that the sight of that little figure gave everybody that knew what came after.

"It's not going to be that bad," he says bracingly, though he sounds like he doesn't believe himself. He doesn't blame Tsuna for the raised eyebrow of disbelief either. "You're looking too far into the future though," he points out, hoping to distract his friend. "As she is, Reborn is probably going to be insanely protective of Miss Hyacinth."

The blood rushes from Tsuna's face so quickly that he looks like a Christmas light. Oops.

"Damn, you're right," the Vongola Decimo whispers.

Enma winces when Tsuna refills his cup. Adelheid was going to kill him once she sees the amount of alcohol consumed.

 


	65. Extremes

Waking up alone, Reborn's nose had traced his lover's tracks to the kitchen, but the dry heaving he is currently hearing tells him of her more recent state.

" Ah?" he turns to the house-elf wringing her spindly hands.

Mippy turns big eyes at him. "Mistress did not like the scallops."

Okay, so that is something else for the list. And he is making a list of it, given that having her kneeling in front of the toilet seat was something she found distasteful.

"How about, no seafood?" he suggests, just in time for Hyacinth to come back in and hear it.

Mippy nods vigorously, a pleading look already in the works. Huh, guess the house-elf was listening in his lessons to Teddy about blackmail and coercion.

"Okay, okay," Hyacinth agrees, caving easily. There is a pale and tired look about her that he doesn't like. "But I have to have some protein. Poppy said so. I already can't stand the scent of grilled pork, or roasting pork. And if you say no seafood."

"Chicken," Reborn says, pointing out the next thing. "Beef. There's goats meat, pigeon and ..."

Hyacinth is laughing. "Alright! I get it."

A package by the table tells him that Vongola had gathered their wits and sent a congratulatory gift. He opens the first one, wrapped in a blue ribbon and sealed with Rain Flames. He can tell it's from Yamamoto Takeshi.

"Urk!" Hyacinth groans when he lifts the lid and finds sushi. She runs for the bathroom again and he sighs.

"Another one for the list," he mutters. "No raw fish then. I told her no seafood."

.

* * *

.

Yuni is smiling that smile that pings on Viper's money-making senses.

"Well?" she asks, politely.

It must be strange for such a young girl to receive such respect from six of the best people in the world, but none of them ever forgot the sacrifice of an Alternate Yuni to bring their other selves back to life. It's the sort of thing that stays with you.

The young heiress giggles.

"Hyacinth is pregnant, you see," she whispers, voice low so that the other tables do not hear.

Viper wants to scrub her ears. She is pretty sure her mouth is hanging open.

"Uhm," she starts, but finds that she doesn't know what else to say.

Yuni giggles again. "He didn't have to tell me and mama though. But he told Tsuna-kun and his friends. They're all being ridiculous."

And _then_ Viper figures out what to say. "If you tell me the gender of the baby, I'll pay you in cupcakes."

Her blue eyes gleam and Viper hides a smile. She is going to hold this over Reborn's head _forever_.

Before that, she first has to figure out how a child of the World's Greatest Hitman will affect the Mafia. The I Prescelti Sette are the kind of people who make _waves_ whenever they decide something, not ripples. This news is like dropping a boulder in a pond.

Though...

Nevermind the Mafia, what about the British Wizarding World?

.

* * *

.

Fon figures it out first hand.

Mostly because among all the ex-Arcobaleno, he is the one to drop by the most. Reading chi is a lovely and underestimated art.

Hyacinth greets him and he blurts it out in surprise, ignoring the gun aimed at his head as best as he could.

"You're pregnant!" he says, and he wants to bite his tongue. The gun doesn't waver for a second.

She beams at him. "How do you know? I'm not showing yet."

He eyes the hitman and almost flinches at the irritation the beady black eyes are showing. "I read your chi. You register as two people to me. And your frightening lover looks like he wants to blow my head out."

Fon could, of course, defend himself, but if Flames come into play, he's not sure if any of the house will survive. And she's _pregnant_. He's still trying to let it sink in. Meditation would help. _Later_. When he is sure that Reborn wouldn't kill him for trespass.

"Reborn's just being silly," she tells him. "Come on in. I hope you like green tea? It's the only thing I can bear for the moment. Everything else is still a hit and miss."

Being called silly had the hitman holstering his gun, though he doesn't cease glowering. Fon feels nostalgia for all those times he'd had to duck a bullet, decades back when their partnership was still new.

.

* * *

.

Colonello finds out alongside Lal, because Viper is gloating.

She is channelling smugness and superiority. Of course Lal Mirch demands to know, just to stop with the attitude. Colonnello usually hides under the nearest table when Lal uses that tone. Viper goes still and _pouts_.

"Hyacinth Potter is pregnant," she sighs, holding out a hand.

Colonnello forks over the appropriate cash mechanically and then the words sink in.

"Wait," he says. " _Wait_. Run that by me again. Hyacinth is...pregnant."

He curses his imagination because unbidden, the picture of Reborn walking alongside a baby in a suit, the signature side-burns present in both. He feels a bit ill at the thought. One of Reborn is bad enough. The very idea of two of him makes him want to stock up on some batteries and spare ammo.

It is too _fucking_ early for the world to end.

Lal doesn't even flinch and he admires her courage.

"Two of him," he whispers, because _speaking_ it out loud seems to make the words real. "Dear Merciful Primo."

His sweet wife smirks. "Hah, two of him!" she says. "You're not thinking straight. Or even taking in all the factors, stupid rookie. What if it's a girl?"

And as she says it, he recalls the sweet artist that hid poisoned fangs behind her smiles. Eyes filled with enough mischief that he had often wondered what she'd put in the tea she served him.

The thought of _two of her_!

" _Cazzo_ ," he curses. "I need a drink."

Lal Mirch laughs at him, a low throaty chuckle that never fails to give him delicious shivers.

.

* * *

.

"I'm going to Antartica," is what Skull declares when Fon crashes in his stunt practice to tell him the news, bemused expression in place as he relayed what was – and still is – the most terrible thing he'd heard for the whole year.

The martial arts master grins – which is a frankly terrifying expression on his face.

"You are being dramatic," Fon says. "Though I do admit to some distress when I discovered Hyacinth's delicate state. His killer instincts are ridiculously easy to rile these days."

Skull wants to bang his head on the wall.

Damn Fon for having no tact to speak of. Damn Reborn too for starting this in the first place.

"You're worried about the wrong thing," Skull mutters, close to a whine. "So what if he's a bit more bloodthirsty? I thought you wanted regular spars? I'm worried about Hyacinth. He's going to be overbearing, we all know it – he did the same for Luce and Aria. She's going to murder him before the ninth month arrives. "

Fon laughs.

.

* * *

.

Verde finds out, because of course he has bugs planted among his fellow ex-Arcobaleno.

He finds out, because Yuni catches one in her hands and whispers the news to the bugs. Since he has never managed to keep one bug stuck to Reborn, the news is welcome.

And then he figures out that yes, Reborn is procreating. He wants samples.

His fingers twitch before he catches himself, sighing into his chair. Reborn would likely kill him before he can even get any of the DNA.

"Yuni," he says, leaving her a voice mail. "When's the baby shower?"

The reply arrives just as he is sending it. Ah, the lovely advantages of working communications with a Shaman's descendant.

"Six months," he says out loud. "Six months to find a gift."

He just wants to find an excuse to test for the babies Flame Sensitivity in the womb. It's supposed to be very strong, with how the parents are.

.

* * *

.

Basil is not thinking of anything. Much.

His master, Sawada Iemitsu, had taught him that the adage of Primo. That is, if you fight to protect something, then you are all the more stronger. Because you have someone to come back to.

He is not thinking that Reborn, before he had met Miss Hyacinth, was already a terrifying monster. He is not thinking of how much more efficient Reborn's missions had become when he moved in with Miss Hyacinth. And he is _definitely_ not thinking of Reborn as an overprotective father, because somehow, he is imagining islands sinking to the bottom of the sea and ships exploding spectacularly.

More importantly though, he is not thinking of _that woman_ going round with child.

He had heard horror stories from his master of irrationality and sudden wild mood swings. He is making sure to stay far, far away from any assignments in their corner of Italy.

Basil stifles a whimper and bunkers down for a long day of compartmentalizing his issues. His therapist had recommended it.


	66. Branching

Traffic in Hyacinth's house increases. In one point of view, anyway.

The Mafiosi, make themselves scarce, because not even Yuni wanted to risk Reborn in an overprotective rampage. The only one that risks it is Fon and Hyacinth sometimes wants to groan at it, because swaths of her forest are getting cleared by their spars.

On one hand, wizardly traffic increased as the nosier friends and concerned distant relatives discovered her pregnancy.

It is slightly amusing to watch Reborn deal with it. He twitches and scowls like a Hypogriff with a sore paw, but he never says anything to push them off – and he had as much right to do that as her.

"I love you," she whispers to him as her hands knead on his stiff shoulders, unknotting the tension that had stuck there while he dealt with strangers in his house.

He sighs, kissing her fingertips. "You need them. I wouldn't even know anything wrong with you if there is. It's not my expertise."

While he had read her books, knowing wasn't the same as _knowing_. Hyacinth peppers him with kisses in gratitude.

.

* * *

.

It is inevitable then for those two groups to cross.

Hermione, dropping off a runic charm for lucky pregnancy, comes across Hayato arguing with Uri (and hadn't that been a shock, seeing a cat with armor, flames and _sunglasses_.). The resulting explosion of facts and statistics had Hyacinth smiling,

While Hyacinth hadn't exactly been cold to her friends in England, she'd definitely been far from welcoming. She knows, of course, that her friends understood her need for space and a fresh start. England, while still familiar, reminded her too much of what she'd lost for her to call it home.

Hayato and Hermione gave her back what she'd been missing at home and enhanced it; the accent of England combined with the raw chaos that followed Reborn's friends.

"That sounds noisy," Reborn drawls, dropping to a seat beside her as she slices some tomatoes.

"It's fun," she says. "Reminds me of England. None of my friends were exactly... _quiet_ , you know?"

Hermione shrieks indignation at something Hayato says that contradicts her knowledge and Hyacinth has to stifle a laugh. It must have been difficult for the witch to be unable to contradict him and tell him why she just knew.

"Fun indeed. It's a good thing I had that brat leave his dynamite at home," Reborn deadpans. "What are you making?"

"Pizza with feta cheese and some tomatoes," she responds absently, artfully arranging the toppings.

He tenses. "Ah, that looks lovely. Just don't add...blueberries or anything sweet, okay? Olives are fine."

Hyacinth blushes at the reminder. Her cravings had gotten away with her once and she had _accidentally_ allowed it to influence her cooking. Needless to say, Reborn is a bit more careful eating her food now.

"This is pizza," she defends herself. "You can see everything."

Reborn pointedly looks at the dough she is crimping. "Not everything. I never know if you've placed something inside that."

No defense for that, Hyacinth just stays quiet and flushes darker.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth would appreciate a warning, Reborn thinks, but they already had an owl and an assortment of animals in their forest. One more wouldn't hurt.

The look on her face is worth the trouble negotiating with Luna. She takes one look at the crup and he could practically see her heart melting.

"That's a baby crup," she says, hands hesitantly hovering over the box. The crup doesn't appreciate her hesitance and whines, looking sad, adorable and fuzzy. "Oh Merlin, that's a baby crup. Where on earth did you find it?"

"I asked your friend, Luna," he replies, wishing he had a camera. "And it's a he, by the way."

She finally gives in and picks him up, holding him to her chest and nuzzling the wet nose.

A part of Reborn dislikes sharing, but he remembered her comment that even with Teddy, sometimes the house was too quiet. Upon asking Hermione, she'd revealed that Hyacinth was used to sleeping in a boarding school. Quiet likely happened when all of them were asleep. Already he can see her relaxing the only way he'd seen her do under the sunlight and with friends.

"Do you like it?" he finally asks.

She breaks her staring contest with the crup and smiles at him. "He has your eyes," she says with mischief, eyes glinting. "Liquid, dark and adorable."

He is startled into laughter at the comparison.

.

* * *

.

Padfoot Junior, as the crup is christened, adds the sort of chaos that occupies Hyacinth's time when she isn't busy doing business. Sometimes, not even that.

"Alright, who let the crup inside my workshop?" she demands.

Reborn and Teddy break from their game of chess and both of them simultaneously assume looks of innocence. Hyacinth isn't fooled one bit.

"Teddy, you're bathing the paint out of him," she tells the boy. "And you, yes you, don't give me that look, will clean up the mess he made. He's your brat when he's like that."

The two of them bolt from the room quickly at her scowl and Hyacinth sighs, sinking into the sofa irritably. She makes the mistake of glancing at the chess board and feels her brain stop.

That there was a complicated thing. If she remembers their positions right, Reborn had played black while Teddy had played white. White was actually winning.

"That's a mess," she groans. Mippy tuts disapprovingly beside her and Hyacinth remembers that the house-elf had been in the process of cleaning the workshop of Padfoot's splashes. Reborn had likely interrupted her.

"Sorry, Mippy," she says. "But Reborn's teaching my godson to be a genius and how to think like one. At this rate, Hogwarts is going to bore him."

Mippy shakes her head. "Then Mistress will have to give him something to make him happy."

Ancient Runes prods insistently at her at the thought of assignments.

"Do you think he's ready?" she asks.

Mippy nods. "Young Master Teddy already knows the basics."

The basics, being the most important wand movements to the basic pronunciation's that tripped wizards up. And he's still a few months shy of six years old.

"Ancient Runes," she groans again. "Merlin damn it, I have to talk to Blaise."

.

* * *

.

Reborn, of course, is hesitant to let her out of the house.

Not that he'd confine her, but the thought of her walking around by herself seemed to physically pain him. Only Mippy's reassurance that she was watching Hyacinth seemed to pacify him.

(Mippy actually had to show Reborn what she could do, defensively, before he would consent to anything.)

Hyacinth kisses him sweetly, makes an illegal portkey and activates it within another breath.

After she regains her bearings, she goes to find Blaise.

Blaise, whose expertise in Ancient Runes likely would surpass Hermione's if he ever applied himself.

"Potter," an Auror that looks vaguely familiar greets her. "He's down there, sorting things."

The pureblood hardly looks changed as he sorts through paperwork and reports with ease. His wand is nowhere in sight and his expression is lazy and slow. But his eyes are sharper than anyone's.

"Hello, Potter," he drawls lazily. "What can I do for you?"

She folds her arms and resists the urge to smack him. Something about him just about rubbed her the wrong way.

"Ancient Runes," she says. "I need your help and you can consider it a favour."

He actually stops filing for a moment and gives her his complete attention.

"Really," he drawls. "Alright then."

.

* * *

 

.

He takes her to a secluded pub and orders himself a butterbeer. Hyacinth longs for one but settles for water. His expression turns funny for a moment before settling back to that lazy mask.

"Go on," he says. "I'm listening."

Hyacinth sighs and explains Teddy and his budding genius. Explaining that without touching on Reborn is insanely difficult and she eventually has to mention him, if only to stop her headache.

"Reborn is a genius," she says. "The kind of genius that Charlie Weasley was on a broom, except he's applied it to Math – muggle Arithmancy. And he's teaching Teddy games to increase memory and all. I didn't notice it at first, but Reborn is good at that, teaching people I mean."

Blaise nods. "And what do I have to do with this?"

Hyacinth aches for something stronger to drink as she stares at her glass of water.

"Reborn is eventually going to overtake the things I'm teaching Teddy in the muggle side of things. I mean, magical preparation is insanely simple. But if I start teaching him ahead – "

"He's going to be dead bored in Hogwarts," he finishes. "By Morgana, that's one thing most parents would like. So you want me to teach him Runes? I don't even think I know where you placed the boy, Potter."

Finally, she snaps. "Stop calling me that, Blaise."

He smirks. "Hyacinth. It was just one kiss. Don't tell me you still remember that?"

And another reason for that burning urge to smack him. He had stolen her first kiss when she accidentally ran into him under a mistletoe in Christmas.

"I remember that," she tells him. "And I also remember punching you afterwards."

He scowls at her. "Not fair, that. Hitting a bloke while he's down."

"Anyway," she says, pointedly changing the subject. "You can teach him once a week on weekends, that's your break, right? Leave him worksheets afterwards or something. I can quiz him if you leave me instructions."

He nods, getting serious. "Portkey?" he asks. "You'd make me a contract, of course."

Magically binding. Both of them knew that. And then came the other hard part.

"Now, what do you want for your favour?" she asks.

He smirks again. Her fingers itch.

"I want to know why you sabotaged the Jugson's," he says bluntly. "And what you got out of it."

Hyacinth doesn't freeze but her stillness is already a tell.

By the predatory look in Blaise's eyes, he noticed.


	67. Connections

Hyacinth doesn't palm her wand, but she does tighten the coil of magic that she's always readily aware of.

"Why do you ask me?" she asks lightly, daring herself to meet his dark, heavily lidded eyes.

He remains sombre, which in itself is freaking her out. Blaise does not get serious.

"Do you know Hyacinth," he says, picking his words carefully. "That there are so few purebloods in Britain that we all know each other, even if they're not listed in the Gold Book. Your improperly spelled muggle upbringing won't tell you, but everyone knows everyone else. And their business. And all our businesses are connected too."

He cuts a sharp eye at her and Hyacinth feels overwhelming admiration at him for making her feel like a mouse in front of a cat, even for just a moment.

"You're telling me that you absolutely know nothing about why I suddenly lost business for an entire month?"

She gives him a smile with a hint of teeth. "Nothing I will tell you will make you believe me," she says. "You Slytherins are always believing the worst in me anyway."

He concedes the point by downing his butterbeer.

"I'll contact your lawyer," he says. "It was nice seeing you, Hyacinth."

Then, just to be an arsehole, he kisses her knuckles saying, "Congratulations on the baby." He leaves before she can do more than sputter at him.

She drinks her water desperately and feels like she had been running a marathon. She really, _really_ wishes she could drink something stronger.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth apparates home and collapses on the sofa with a groan.

"Oh Merlin, why did I do that?" she whines. "Oh Merlin, why did I go to that arse?"

A head peeks over the sofa and Reborn raises his eyebrows at her. "Which arse?" he asks.

She feels some tension in her body leaving with his assured, confident air.

"Blaise Zabini," she tells him. "Teddy's new Ancient Runes teacher, so that he won't be too bored."

Teddy's colored head peeks over the sofa next, along with PJ's furry head. He's also covered in paint.

"What on earth?" she asks, bolting upright to examine the paint splashed on his cheeks to find that it extends down to his body and to the dog.

"Re-cre-a-tional arts day," Teddy says carefully. "Mippy is teaching Teddy about colors."

She forgets about emotional stress for the moment, more worried about Teddy eating something inedible.

.

* * *

.

"You know Blaise Zabini," she announces when she can finally corner him by his weapons room.

He quirks an imperious eyebrow at her. "What makes you say that?" he says.

Hyacinth has had enough.

"I've just finished dealing with one pompous Italian asshole," she almost snarls. "Don't make me deal with one more. Please."

He stands up. "I take it your day didn't go well." He runs one hand down her face gently. His dark eyes remind her of Blaise's except Blaise would never look at her with such warm eyes.

"No, it didn't. Merlin, I want so much whisky," she sighs. "Reborn, please?"

His thumb checks her eyes and he shakes his head. "Let's get you to bed. I may not be a doctor, but you look exhausted. I'll tell you tomorrow."

She narrows her eyes at him.

"I'm not deflecting you!" he says.

Hyacinth allows him to push her to bed and makes herself pliant as his hands undress her.

.

* * *

.

"There's omerta and then there's _confidential_ ," Tsunayoshi says over the phone.

Reborn allows impatience to creep into his tone. "Hyacinth is asking questions, Tsunayoshi. If I don't answer her, she'll likely do some investigating on her own and that will give you more problems."

He can feel his student groan. "This would be simple if you just married her."

He arches an eyebrow. " _Oh?"_

Tsuna backs down quickly. " _Not_ that I was ordering you or anything," he says nervously. "She can keep a secret, right?"

Reborn thinks of secret magical societies and holds back a laugh. "Yes, she can keep a secret."

"I'll send over Takeshi for the file."

He certainly wouldn't have allowed her to go out of the house if he had known she was meeting a Zabini.

.

* * *

.

"Reborn," Teddy says. "Let's play chess?"

He looks at the chess board and agrees, moving his pawn. Absently, he flicks through the file and reaffirms what he knows of the Zabini's.

"Your turn!" Teddy says cheerfully.

It goes on that way for a while, Reborn paging through the file while working through the chessboard. It isn't until Teddy cries "Checkmate!" that he realizes that he's lost.

"What?" he says blankly. "Say again?"

He reads through the moves and understands that he lost ten moves ago, when he had sacrificed his bishop and given Teddy an opening which the little boy took advantage of.

"Brilliant," he says, feeling warmth welling through him. Pride. "You just bested me at chess. Now, let's go over what you just did Teddy and let's see if you can do it again."

The file is forgotten in the face of Teddy's cheers.

.

* * *

.

"The Zabini's," he tells her while she's sorting egg yolks and whites in different bowls. "Sell textiles. Technically. On the side, however, they train up assassins and own ballet studios for the mafia."

Her face is a study in irony. "Mafia need dancers? Ballet dancers?" she asks. She's mixing two different batters and tipping in the flour carefully.

"You'd be surprised at how much dancing can be like fighting," he says with a heated smile.

"Stop it," she giggles. "Later. Go on."

He dips a finger into the mixture and gets a spoon to the hand for his attempts.

"Ouch," he mutters. "But proper assassins are hard to come by. And they really do it well."

Hyacinth stops mixing to look perplexed right at him. "Huh. Maybe that's why Blaise is always so weird." At his look of disbelief, she adds, "You'll see when he comes here. It's either he does it on purpose or he really doesn't know."

"Now you're making me curious," he says. "What are you making anyway?"

"Ladyfingers. I saw the recipe and I can't believe I never tried making it," she fills her piping bag and gives him a beady look. "Don't you dare lick anything."

"Hands off," he agrees, wondering where he can sneak a taste. "What is he teaching Teddy?"

"Ancient Runes," she says. "It's mainly rote memorization at the beginning, but once you start blending in the combinations, you can do anything. Some wizards don't even need their wands anymore. Blaise certainly doesn't"

She rests her hands on her hips and shudders. "I mean, the first time I saw him explode something with just his fingers, I near about jumped out of my skin. It was the most frightening thing I'd ever seen. I want Teddy to have that assurance." She looks at Reborn with worry. "Teddy's father was a werewolf, Reborn. People will have prejudices and they'll try to hurt him just for existing."

"He can take care of himself," Reborn had to say. "But I suppose exploding things with just his hands is a good defence."

Hyacinth's eyes go round, as through she's just realized the implications. "Oh Merlin, that boy is going to learn Ancient Runes. He's already as slippery as an eel without magic."

Reborn smothers a laugh. "Tsunayoshi will have to watch him then, for more training."

She slides the trays in the oven, shaking with giggles. "For Tsunayoshi or for Teddy?"

"It can't be both?" he asks innocently, making her laugh harder.


	68. INTERLUDE III

Considering what Hyacinth told him about her lover – genius and tutor – he hadn't expected the man opening the door to be a Merlin damned _hitman._

Blaise doesn't react, but that's all he's capable of as his mind goes in squeaky circles and tries to reconcile ' _tutor'_ with ' _hitman_ '. It's not as difficult as he is expecting, given what his uncle does for a living. But tying Hyacinth Potter with the intimidating hitman is almost impossible.

"You're a Zabini," Reborn says before Blaise can say anything.

He manages to raise an eyebrow. "Yes," he says slowly. "Hyacinth called me. Where is Edward Lupin?" Unsaid are the words, _Yes, I'm a Zabini. If you have a problem, Hyacinth called me here._

The name makes the man pause. "We call him Teddy here. And he's just finished cleaning his room."

Knowing Granger's house-elf liberation campaign, Blaise bites down on anything he would want to say in case that campaign extends to her friends too.

"I see," he says. "I brought some materials. Hyacinth says you're his main professor. You want to view them over?"

He puts them on the table like an offering, because this is Reborn's student he is infringing on. He understood territory intimately. Theo had Purple Soul Fire and it had been an _education_ sharing a dorm with him.

Reborn accepts the folder with a short nod, eyebrows narrowing as he stares down at the written tabulations. It isn't until astonishment crosses his face at some of the Runes that Blaise understands that the man, although intimidating, is a muggle.

His blatant unfamiliarity with the Runes is a dead giveaway, and while it might be explained away with being a muggleborn or just avoiding the subject, Runes are pretty much everywhere. Some of them _have_ to be familiar. Even Hyacinth knew the names of some of them and she hadn't even taken the subject at Hogwarts.

"Any questions?" he says in a carefully controlled voice instead of shouting out the sudden revelation to the Daily Prophet. He is a professional, thank you.

Something must have been in his tone anyway because the Merlin damned, _muggle_ hitman glances up sharply. Then he smiles like a snake.

"Ah, nothing important," he says around that smile. "But you seem to emphasize meditation before getting out of bed and before sleeping? Is that important?"

It's basic exercises, though his ignorance can be excused by Hyacinth's muggle upbringing and half-spelled education. She really would be far more effective and terrifying if she had been taught half the things Blaise already knew from the moment he could talk.

Like wrist exercises for better wand movement. Or just plain breathing properly, because while non-verbal is pretty much the sign of a well-practiced wizard, some spells just have better impact shouted.

Then again, Hyacinth is already terrifying half-educated.

"Magic isn't just a well-spring inside the wizard," he explains after a beat. "It's everywhere in the earth. A good and proper Rune master can use that magic outside to amplify their spells. But to use that needs awareness. Focus. Only meditation can help."

Blaise feels pained, really. He's explaining the secrets of the Rune Arts to a muggle. His mother might as well bury him alongside his many stepfathers.

"You'd be surprised," Reborn says at length. "I already teach Teddy some stretching exercises. A little more wouldn't hurt."

Finally, his student thunders down the stairs, hair shifting from grey to light green the moment he sees his tutor. And then to pink when he spots Blaise.

He's already unfairly fascinated with the boy, being Hyacinth's ward. Being a metamorphagi is just the frosting on the cake. (The circumstances of _that_ had been shared in vivid detail by Daphne Greengrass. He's still very intrigued on _why_ she had gone out of her way to remove Andromeda Tonks.)

"My name is Blaise Zabini," he introduces himself when the boy is finally seated. "And I was called by Hyacinth Potter to teach you Ancient Runes."

.

* * *

.

The boy is a genius.

Merlin bless it, Hyacinth had not been exaggerating when she told him.

The three packets he had in his bag had been devoured with a speed that was astounding. The instructions he'd left behind had been questioned and poked at, no blind obedience there. Only curiosity. Unending, unsated curiosity. If Edward Lupin did not end up in Ravenclaw, he is eating his tie.

Curiously, only Reborn had been there to supervise the first session and did not even hover. The muggle had spent the majority of the time polishing a pie, the knife in his hand looking positively lethal. Blaise would be more worried, but he's a Zabini. Anything that ought to have people running in the opposite direction has him _interested._

Morgana curse him, but Blaise is _very_ interested on how a muggle killer caught Hyacinth's attention. And kept it.

"I won't ask for essays," he says as he packs his bags. "Professor's who ask for essays are those with more than five students. I will ask you instead on what we discussed on the previous session. It won't start until you've recited to me everything. You better not let me catch you carrying anything written other than my worksheets."

The boy's face is one large wrinkled frown.

"But – " he starts, hair going a deep and vibrant red.

The muggle interrupts before he can continue. "It's good for your memory, Teddy."

The hair turns a dull brown. Blaise is starting to understand how that works better. He's never seen a better mood indicator.

"I'll see you next week," he says and gives a nod to the muggle.

Reborn nods back and stands up, escorting him to the ward line. A tug at the portkey and he's gone.

.

* * *

.

"I see what you mean," he says as a greeting. "He's practically mafia himself."

Hyacinth stops mixing colors, the bubblehead charm around her head wobbling for a moment when she turns to look at him.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

He takes a chair and wrinkles his nose at the overpowering scent of paint. "He knew me. The moment he saw me, he knew what I was."

Reborn isn't unsettled, not exactly. It had been strange though, to see that awareness in Zabini's dark eyes. Everyone in Hyacinth's world knew him to be dangerous but it is one thing to know he could be violent and another thing to know _how_ violent he could be. Intimately.

Even Hyacinth, despite how close he is to her, doesn't exactly know how visceral he could get if he was in the mood for it. Though those moods are fewer and farther apart than before, they were still there.

"Blaise...he's been like that," she says. Her eyes are glazed with memory. "We aren't close, not really. But among all the Slytherin's that were in my school, he was bearable. He watched what he said, for one. And he respected women."

He raises an eyebrow. "I take it that feminism isn't widespread in your world?"

She laughs. "There have been very few females that held positions of power. The last female Minister, Bagnold, made such a hash of things that there likely wouldn't be another one in a while. At least, not until Hermione is finished revolutionizing things wherever she goes."

After a beat, she put down her brush and turns to look at him, that strange little smile playing on his mouth.

"Well?" she finally asks.

Reborn shakes his head. "He'll do. Did you know he asked Teddy to memorize everything done in one session and recite it to him in the next one? With the intervening days, the boy is likely to forget something."

Hyacinth looks at him suspiciously but when he volunteers nothing, lets it go. Primo, he loves her for it.

"That's one of the old teaching methods," she says eventually, relaxing in her chair. "Before, when there was only master and apprentice. Now that Hogwarts hosts nearly a thousand students per professor, essays are needed."

Reborn doesn't tell Hyacinth that Zabini's visit had made the hairs at the back of his neck stand up. Zabini had reminded him of Mukuro Rokudo, though he'd wondered why. Mukuro preferred to keep his opponents on their toes and his demented smile certainly helped there. Zabini's default expression of laziness disarmed people and then he crept past them with subtle words.

Reborn hid a wince when he realized that Zabini is what Mukuro would have been without experimentation. If that wizard isn't a Mist, then he is losing his touch.

"What are you painting?" he asks. He had been quiet for too long though and Hyacinth gives him a concerned look.

"The lake," she answers. "Did I show you the Great Lake at Hogwarts?"

He allows the change in topic to distract him from the idea of that Zabini from teaching the boy he loves like his own son.


	69. Cravings

Hyacinth sighs.

She is so _bored_.

If Hermione had been there, warning bells would have been ringing in every church. A bored Potter is a dangerous Potter.

Hermione wasn't there, so Hyacinth's thoughts turned to baking. She wanted to make something about strawberries. Maybe a tart? Fresh strawberries were always the best.

Hyacinth sighs again. She has no urge to go out, given that it was snowing and Mippy turned into some strange version of Helicopter House-elf the moment she even mentions going outside.

Teddy, wrestling with PJ, looks at her with concern. It distracts her for a moment, arranging a game for the boy to play with, before she looks back to the kitchen. She really, _really_ wanted strawberries.

Oh Merlin, she hoped Reborn would forgive her.

.

* * *

.

His phone vibrating in the middle of a job is a terrible, terrible distraction. Though given that he'd set it to block everyone else except his lover, he already knows who'd be calling.

" _Reborn,"_ Oregano is saying through his earpiece. " _Is that your phone broadcasting a signal? I thought you turned it off?"_

Reborn stifles a curse. "Haya," he answers curtly.

" _Reborn,"_ she says in lieu of a greeting. " _I suddenly got this unbelievably strong urge to eat strawberries. Can you pass by some while you're in business?"_

Another hostile hits on his sun flame radar and Reborn rolls to his feet, almost dislodging the folder he is attempting to juggle, along with the phone. He nearly doesn't hear what she's saying, except that he's attuned to her every need, especially since she got pregnant.

"Strawberries. Got it," he says. "Love you. Got to go."

Oregano, who had likely been listening to the conversation – Reborn will have to change his phone again, damn these hackers – says, " _I can't believe you. I thought you had radio silence with everyone else?"_

Reborn shrugs, thinking of his pregnant lover. "I'm not subjecting her to that. She deserves better. Oregano, what's the status of the bomb?"

" _Three minutes. Are you clear of the warehouse? Basil sent a car for you."_ It is clear from her tone that the subject matter wasn't dropped yet.

"Ah," he grunts, dodging another minion. It is such a pain not to be seen. It really is easier to just kill everyone. But he's a professional hitman. He does what the client ordered and nothing less.

"What's the nearest store selling strawberries?" he asks while waiting for the guard rotation to pass through. He times it with his watch and doesn't fidget.

" _Primo,"_ Oregano exclaims. " _Are you really doing this now?"_

Reborn glares at the nearest camera. He's gratified to hear Oregano gulp.

" _Three blocks away from the warehouse_ ," she answers reluctantly. The reluctance is practically a paragraph unto itself. Reborn ignores her disapproval with practice.

Three hallways later, another jump out of a window that he knows bruised his ribs, the warehouse is in pieces and he has a couple more hours until he can get Hyacinth her strawberries.

.

* * *

.

"You're coming next week, right?" Tsuna asks, fingers busy scribbling on a piece of paper.

Reborn, slightly irritated at the lack of attention, leaks a bit of sun flames to get Tsuna's attention. His student is well-trained and immediately drops the pen with barely a squeak.

"Next week?" he asks.

Tsuna points to the calendar by his desk. "Christmas. It's next week. It's the Vongola Annual Christmas Ball. It's tradition." Tsuna's face is particularly sour as he said the word, " _tradition_."

The Vongola Christmas Ball is rather legendary, started in the time of Vongola Primo, when they were still a vigilante group and needed monetary support. It had been a ball to remember. Secondo's time made the ball something to be feared, with politicians, dirty cops and nobles being invited. Tsuna's time was something magical.

" _Cazzo_ ," he mutters. "Hyacinth will want to go."

"Maybe this time you'll be punctual," Tsuna mutters. "You always arrive late and cause a scene."

Reborn flicks his fedora upwards to better look at his student. "What was that, Baka-Tsuna?"

"Ah! Nothing!" It's definitely a squeak this time and Reborn relishes the excuse to shoot at him. (Not that he ever needed an excuse.)

.

* * *

.

"A ball?" Hyacinth exclaims, eyes going bright. "On Christmas eve too! How lovely."

Reborn groans from the sofa, nursing his bruises. The store did not have strawberries in season. He'd have to bribe someone to fetch them from Greece. It took less than two hours. It is amazing the lengths people would go just _not_ to be stuck with him in a training session.

"It is not lovely," he complains. He wants attention from his lover, but all her focus is on the basket of strawberries he'd dropped on the table. "It's tedious. Politicians, Police Officers and their wives, and some people from Foreign Ministries."

She laughs at him. "It's not all bad," she says, finally abandoning her prize and grinning down at him from above, hair falling in a curtain around them. Her lips are red and stained with strawberry juices, drawing his eyes for a second.

"I'll be wearing a dress," she adds with a smile. "The low-cut, scandalous kind that we saw once, do you remember? You'll be holding me all night and whatever distractions are there, other people can deal away with it."

The image appeals to him and he struggles to hold on to his petulance.

Hyacinth's smile is wickedness incarnate, sensing weakness.

"Minx," he huffs, acceding victory to her.

She giggles mischievously. "Now hold still so I can see what you're grouching about. Your bruises can't be that bad if you still have breath to complain."

It's a direct quote from him, when Teddy had complained about running. He doesn't appreciate her turning it back to him. He gives her the evil eye as she waves her wand in complicated patterns.

"Hmm," she mutters. "You might be right to complain, I only saw bruises like that through bludgers."

He looks at her with sad eyes, practically communicating, _Cuddle me_ through his pupils.

Hyacinth doesn't notice and briskly removes his clothes, rubbing ointment that spread coolness through his body. The sudden easing of his pain made him grit his teeth in an effort not to cry out.

"Wait five minutes, and then shower," she says. "I'll have some cookies waiting when you get out."

The incentive has Reborn ignoring his lingering bruises as he jogs up the stairs.


	70. Curiosity

Reborn curses his curiosity.

Generally, he knows that pregnant women have mood swings and may or may not be subject to nausea and strange cravings.

Searching about pregnancy in the internet has him breaking out into sweat, the sudden information drive making him very, very nervous for his lover.

In a burst of energy, he gets up from the sofa and finds Hyacinth from where she is instructing Mippy on which flowers to cut.

"Reborn?" she asks, glancing at him and then looking back with some concern. He doesn't know what face he is making but it must be something for her to look that worried.

"Just…something I read," he hedges, wrapping himself around her and leaking some Sun Flames. It has the effect of making her warmer and she squirms half-heartedly in his grasp.

"What are you doing – are you using your Soul Fire?" she asks.

He hums in answer, breathing in her scent and trying to put what he just read about 'prolapse' and 'episiotomy' at the back of his head.

"Oh, you're like an overgrown octopus," she sighs, though she snuggles into his embrace.

.

* * *

.

Hermione and Ginny passing through the house for an exchange of news cements things.

Mostly, because Hermione sees the books Reborn is browsing through the internet and Molly Weasley had her faults, but she had been an excellent midwife in her youth.

"Pregnancy," Hermione reads over Reborn's shoulder, making the hitman lock down his muscles in an effort not to hit the witch in his surprise. "Pregnant witches have different problems though, right Ginny?"

Ginny shoves a hank of red hair out of the way and peers at the screen.

"Well, that's strange," the witch says. "I know mum tells me there might be problems with pregnant witches, but usually, it's when the baby's already out."

Reborn turns around to give them a Look. He already has enough problems swirling around in his head. Adding one more thing to it is not appreciated.

"Well, magic helps doesn't it?" Ginny elucidates at the almost glare. "There's a reason witches shouldn't use magic by the second trimester and that's because they'll be magically exhausted after the birth, making them easily ill after."

Hermione, having read more books about pregnancy than anyone combined, adds, "Muggle diseases doesn't really affect us, Reborn. Mostly, it's the magical diseases you have to worry about. Like Dragon Pox."

Ginny rolls her eyes. "Yes, like Dragon Pox. Not that Hyacinth could ever contact it in Italy. In Romania, though, is where you'll have to worry."

Reborn relaxes his shoulders incrementally. "So none of the non-magical diseases will hurt her, but the magical ones will?"

Hermione braves patting his hand. "Don't worry, you have Mippy and House-elves are very good with taking care of witches and wizards. If there's something wrong, we're just a Floo Call away."

It didn't exactly comfort him.

.

* * *

.

It takes a while for Hyacinth to catch on that was Reborn so….well, she wouldn't really use the term flustered, Reborn had a bit too much pride and dignity for that. More…disquieted.

He took to running a hand over her still mostly flat stomach and burying his face in her hair. Reborn was sweet, but he wasn't _that_ sweet.

"Alright, what are you on about?" she finally asks.

The pillow is not a distraction and she wrenches it away from his face.

"Well?" she demands.

He sighs and says, "I made the mistake of researching pregnancy. And your friends are…well…"

Hyacinth only knew that Ginny and Hermione were her most recent visitors. That they'd terrified Reborn about something almost made her want to laugh.

Almost, except that he really was serious.

"I'm fine," she reassures him. "Remember, Madam Pomfrey visits me every three days to check. And the women in our family have a history of giving birth easily."

She does not mention what came after the birth. Witches went weak and tired after a birth and she had already made the preparations to deal with it. Reborn didn't need to worry about it too when he was worrying about the baby as well.

"I'll take your word for it," he finally says.

It helped that Hyacinth, to his memory, had never lied to him.

.

* * *

.

Blaise arrives at the usual Portkey Point bearing a basket of fruits.

He feels the tingle of magic check it out and he bears it with gritted teeth. Her wards really are impressive and invasive but it was still better warded than Hogwarts.

"Gifts?" the muggle hitman says in lieu of a greeting. "Any strawberries in there?"

Blaise checks. "Yes. Mother packed a lot of berries. Something to do about fruits being good for you."

The muggle's eyes are sharp. No doubt he'd noticed the omission.

Hyacinth clatters down the stairs – and in Blaise's peripheral view, he sees the muggle's knuckles go white as his grip tightens on the chair.

"Blaise! Finally, you're here. Teddy has been driving me insane. I can't paint at all," she says in a rush. She peers past him, notices the basket and brightens like a lumos charm. "Gifts! Aww, you shouldn't have."

He smirks at her and does his best to ignore the hitman glaring daggers at his back. "Mother insisted."

She is already picking up two strawberries to nibble on, turning to look at her lover. "Reborn, can you take PJ on a walk? His energy is ridiculous. A dive in the snow would do him some good."

Reborn's smile is dry. "He's a crup, not a Husky." But he is moving up the stairs, returning only with a bundle of wriggling fur. There is a leash dangling on one hand.

"When I'm back, there better be some hot chocolate," he announced darkly. "This is a sacrifice."

She giggles, safely nestled around his arms. Blaise wants to roll his eyes at the sweetness. There really was such a thing as too much. Too much sweetness.

"And where is my student?" he finally interrupts.

"Taking a shower. He accidentally took a bath in my paints earlier."

Blaise can very well imagine the hyperactive boy doing it and he tries not to be too impatient at the wait.

"I'm making some biscuits," she tells him, letting out a whisk and a spatula. "Anything you'd like?"

Blaise manages not to sigh. He had thought that teaching Hyacinth's godson would be a simple, dried and cut out thing. He did not imagine muggle hitmen, Hyacinth Potter baking and a metamorphagus.

"Sure," he exhales with some effort. "Why not? I'd like some chocolate biscuits, please."


	71. Nostalgia

On the day before Christmas, the day of the Vongola Christmas Ball, Hyacinth woke up two seconds before the explosion.

It is thanks to Mippy that she gets prior warning, enough for Reborn not to detonate.

"Mistress!" a shrill, high voice had yelled in her ear.

Hyacinth's instincts had taken over and the Elder Wand had appeared in her hand, magic already shaping a shield charm with less thought and more instinct.

The explosion is not the frightening, terrifying mushroom cloud she had imagined, but a small explosion that had nonetheless rocked the house to its foundations.

Hyacinth doesn't know when Reborn is awake, only that he suddenly _was_ , dark eyes gleaming with Soul Fire and breathing steady despite everything.

"Teddy?" he asks after Hyacinth stops the magic jumping in her veins from doing anything else.

She shifts her gaze to him and nods. "He's fine," she says. "Mippy, what happened?"

The house-elf starts to scowl. "The young master."

Having gone to school with Fred and George Weasley, Hyacinth immediately understands what Mippy means.

She releases the shield charm with a flick of her wrist and the translucent spell vanishes. She thumps back on her pillow with a groan.

" _Amante?_ " Reborn asks her, body still ready and alert for any other signs of trouble.

Hyacinth sighs. "Blaise left Teddy with an extra worksheet for Christmas. My bet is that he tried to conjunct two of the runes without proper preparation and it exploded on him."

Reborn raises an eyebrow and the slight slant on his mouth told her how unimpressed he was with the wake-up call.

"Hyacinth," he says slowly. "It _shook_ the house."

"Magic tends to be dramatic," she says, hands still over her eyes. "Can you talk to him? That rush of adrenaline….does not agree with me."

Reborn sighs.

.

* * *

.

And he thought that only mafia households were violent.

Reborn had gotten used to the peaceful, almost civilian domesticity of Hyacinth's house and the explosion had startled him.

It had reminded him of Tsunayoshi and Namimori, back when he was still Decimo's tutor.

Reborn stifles a fond smirk for the brat and focuses his gaze on the other brat _who should not have been practicing unsupervised_.

Teddy looks up from his Rune Sheet, covered in soot and Primo knows what other substances and turns pale.

.

* * *

.

When Hyacinth goes downstairs, Teddy is alternately sulking and pouting at Reborn. Reborn is radiating smugness obnoxiously, the kind that Malfoy had excelled in when they were still at school together and made her want to punch him.

She looks at the table and immediately understands.

"Oooh, Cinnabon's!" Hyacinth says, exaggerated sweetness layering her words. "Did you leave me some?"

Reborn smiles at her, mischief and sheer wickedness in his eyes. "Of course, love. I got them for you. I would have saved some for Teddy as well, except he has been naughty."

Teddy directs teary, watering eyes at her. Of course he would, it's one of his favorite desserts, something that Hyacinth has been trying to recreate, if only to spare herself the side trips to the store.

In an effort not to laugh, Hyacinth steals a sip from Reborns coffee. Since she knows he drinks black in the mornings, she knows not to wrinkle her nose at the bitter taste.

"You are a marvel, Reborn," she says. She bites down a bun and gives a moan that's not exactly exaggerated.

Teddy sniffles behind her and Reborn gives her a warning look.

"Haya," Teddy says, tears choking his voice. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it would 'splode. I'm sorry, can I have some?"

Reborn answers, because he's made of steel and Hyacinth feels her insides melting into goo and sugar. She hopes it doesn't show on her face.

"Will you do it again?" he asks, voice offering no prisoners. He's all sharp edges and grim lines. Waking up that way must have really irritated him.

"No," Teddy immediately promises. "Never, please _pleaseplease_?"

Hyacinth feels like the devil incarnate and looks at Reborn, the plea in her eyes not as blatant but still there.

He looks exasperated.

"Just one then," he concedes. "One, because Hyacinth had to shield us from the dust you shook up and poor Mippy has so much work to do."

Teddy nibbles on his bun slowly, making it last and eyeing the box on the table sadly.

Hyacinth buries her smile into another bite.

.

* * *

.

"You didn't appreciate Teddy's good morning?" she asks him as she prepares lunch.

Reborn scoffs. "I'm fine with that, keeps the reflexes sharp," he says dismissively. "What I didn't appreciate was you in the same place as something exploding."

Hyacinth goes still before moving again, a light blush on her face telling him what she thought of that.

"What's for lunch?" he asks to save her from blushing even darker.

"Shepherd's Pie," she answers, peeling potatoes with her sharp flicks of her wand.

Reborn, who distinctly remembered doing the groceries, raises an eyebrow. "We have lamb?"

Hyacinth nods absently, rummaging through the storage and finding a container. "Yes. And enough ingredients for a quiche too."

Knowing Hyacinth's sudden urge to bake something in the middle of the night - and the lack of ingredients didn't actually deter her nowadays, she resorted to waking him up with a pout - Reborn stalls the idea. "Let's save the quiche for later."

.

* * *

.

The only thing which salvages the day, in Reborn's opinion, are the cookies which he keeps warm with the judicious use of Sun Flames –

"Reborn, are you ready?" Hyacinth asks, coming out of the bathroom and billowing scented smoke everywhere.

\- And Hyacinth in a dress.

He knows he's biased and it's highly possible that his jaw is slack but he can't help but stare at the vision in front of him.

Hyacinth looks at his face and smiles, all mischief and trouble.

"Don't look at me like that, _gattina_." he says, voice rough.

She laughs, a hint of a blush rising up her cheeks and tugs him in for a kiss.

.

* * *

.

The ball is already in full swing when they arrive, laughter and music spilling out and into the night.

The balcony they'd landed in gives Hyacinth a glimpse of the backyard and it is _piled_ with snow.

"Snow ball fight?" she asks him under her breath.

He nods. "It's tradition. The winning side gets to have the losing side as their slaves for three days."

Because Hyacinth could see how much fun that is, she feels the challenge rising in her blood.

"Three days?" she muses, feeling Reborn going still beside her. "I could do something lovely with three days."

She glances up and feels a lovely wriggle in her stomach. It is a rare thing to reduce Reborn to blushing and she savors the feeling.

"Challenge accepted," he says as nonchalantly as possible, which is partly negated by his red ears.

Hyacinth pulls him into the dance floor with a wicked smile.


	72. Luck

Hyacinth is dancing, held in her lover's firm, strong arms and honestly, that's when her luck starts acting up.

She sees the French Minister of Magic chatting normally with the muggle Minister of France. It is headache inducing, mostly because she knows that the British version and Kingsley didn't get along well at all.

Then instinct kicks in and she cringes. Reborn is, as always, quick to notice the sudden changes of her mood. (She knows it's mostly for his sense of self-preservation.)

"Reborn, see those two over there?" she murmurs softly. It's barely audible over the sound of the violins.

"Hmm?" he asks, nonchalant. She knows he is paying attention or she would kick him.

"I need to avoid them," she says.

.

* * *

.

He would hesitate, but he knows Hyacinth has enemies. And she would share her reasons afterwards anyway.

Reborn's eyes twinkle with amusement. "Hide and seek," he says agreeably. "Alright. Follow my lead."

While Hyacinth is adept at dodging people in combat situations and just running for her life, Reborn is the master at camouflage and being unseen in a crowd. Reborn's hands expertly guide her to ducking and weaving through the throngs of people.

"Grab that martini," he says quietly. Whispering would attract attention more than anything. "Don't look at me like that; I know you can't drink it. Just hold it for a moment."

He ducks them between a waiter and takes hold of the martini she is trying not to jostle. Which turns out to be redundant, given that he spills the drink on a lady wearing green. She starts shrieking and the distraction allows them the few seconds to weave between the tables and duck behind a pillar.

Hyacinth gives in to the urge to start giggling.

"That was amazing," she says as quietly as she could manage.

If he were a bird, Reborn would be preening.

.

* * *

.

"Okay, so why on earth do you want to avoid the two of them?" he says expectantly. He is chewing on a fried calamari and she had no idea where it came from.

Hyacinth sighs. "You know that bit about the war? I sort of, accidentally, not-really-on-purpose had the Prime Minister's secretary fired? Turns out, she was actually a Death Eater and one people had been looking for in ages."

Bemusement is all over his face. "You know, they often call me chaos, but I have never uncovered someone undercover by accident. Usually, it's on purpose."

Hyacinth palms her face with embarrassment. "I wish. My luck is crazy." She looks up and notices Reborn starting to polish a chocolate cake. "Where did you get that?"

He points beyond the curtains where there are food tables filled to the brim with everything.

Hyacinth sighs longingly outside. She has no illusions of being able to be unnoticed while she pilfered food. She gives Reborn a look and he complies, after a moment. Staring contests are easy with her green eyes, especially when she makes it a bit watery.

"You are dangerous," he says, feeding her carefully. His eyes are on her mouth as she wraps it around the fork. "Really, really dangerous for my concentration."

She licks her lips with a smirk.

.

* * *

.

The snowball fight, despite being held in teams, devolves into a free for all after Hibari Kyouya decided he didn't like the idea and went after his own teammates and allies.

He even broke the rule of no Flames, propagating snowballs and taking out half the competition, Tsuna included.

Reborn and Hyacinth, who had initially started out as allies, took out the rest of the competition. Mostly because the rest of those who survived the Hibari rampage were too scared to hit Hyacinth, afraid of Reborn's wrath. (And Reborn either was a dirty, filthy cheater or had the most uncanny luck in the world.)

Reborn and Hyacinth breaks their partnership when only stragglers and grunts were left, both of them turning a simple snowball fight into something that involved psychological warfare, tactics, bribery and cheating.

This is how it ended:

Reborn was careful to hit only her limbs and to take shots that wouldn't unbalance her. Greatest Hitman or not, handicapping himself to carefully angled shots in order not to trip or hurt her would be really difficult. Reborn hesitated.

Hyacinth did not. Within two shots that she was sure Reborn had held back on, Hyacinth barraged him with two shots, looked irritably at the surrounding people who had lost and managed to imply, with just her eyes alone, that if they didn't help her, she would doctor her cookies the next time she sent some.

With the threat of the cookies, Reborn was herded and taken out with two headshots.

Hibari and Hyacinth, the last surviving in both factions of the snowball fight, glared at each other with narrowed eyes. Reborn sat up from beneath the pile of snow and realize who his lover is fighting.

"Tsunayoshi," Reborn said.

Tsuna went pale and immediately halted what would have been an epic snowball fight. There were groans, but no one really wanted _Reborn_ on a rampage. Hibari could be directed, but Reborn was something else entirely.

.

* * *

.

It backfires on Hyacinth.

"So," Reborn purrs. "Master. What would you have me do?"

Hyacinth feels immense embarrassment coming from the fact that the man is wearing costume chains, the light and floaty ones that break easily under pressure. It's still gold and makes a lot of noise.

Her cheeks feel hot enough to cook an egg on.

"Oh my God, why are you wearing that?" she asks, voice faint.

His smile is smug. He's wearing nothing else but the chains and ragged pants. Even his hair is disheveled. The very picture he's making is giving Hyacinth _ideas_.

Damn Reborn for looking good in anything, even almost nothing.

"That was the bet, wasn't it?" he asks, head tilted to the side curiously. It also shows off the lovely arch of his neck.

She gets the urge to _bite_.

Oh God.

"We're in public," she says, and it sounds like a whimper.

He arches one perfect eyebrow.

Something in Hyacinth breaks – _self-restraint_ – and she grabs him by the chains.

.

* * *

.

They scandalize the cleaning staff by the following morning and Hyacinth would be blushing if she isn't so tired.

Reborn, somehow, removes evidence of the golden chains and wears his suit as is normal. What isn't normal are his bruised lips and the bite marks decorating his neck.

Hyacinth still has a hard time looking anyone in the eye.

"I'm going diving in Greece," she announces after breakfast, glaring at Reborn. He's smiling that smug smile that drives her up the wall. "At least the fishes won't judge me."

He is still quick to soothe her. "Oh, don't be like that _, Tesoro_. No diving instructor would agree anyway, it's bad for the baby."

Reborn has to dodge the pillow she throws at his face.


	73. Observation

Three weeks into Hyacinth's second trimester, she holds her wand, tries a spell and barely manages to summon a book, suddenly beset with sleepiness and exhaustion.

Panic surfaces before she remembers that yes, pregnant witches are vulnerable. Not usually because of the normal things pregnant women deal with, but because their magic concentrates on the child and leaves very little else for the witch.

Luckily, she had planned for this.

"Ginny and Hermione are staying over," she explains to Reborn after she'd owled the women that it had finally happened.

Reborn raises an eyebrow but doesn't ask. His eyes are dark and his shoulders are stiff. Hyacinth wants to sigh. She had planned for the baby, but she hadn't planned for Reborn.

"Hyacinth," he says, a statement and not a question.

She just smiles at him. She isn't panicking. She is calm and collected.

.

* * *

.

The girls arrive with clutch bags. She doesn't wonder where their things are, given that one of those bags could probably hold an entire country.

They immediately start to make life easier for Hyacinth, like the gardening and managing the household.

"I never knew how much magic I did every day until I couldn't do it anymore," she confides to them when Reborn is out of the house. "It's annoying."

Hermione's smile is sympathetic. She understood, being a muggleborn.

"I know," she says. "When I found out about possible problems, I tried to count the number of times I used magic a day. I lost count before lunch."

Ginny laughs at the both of them, having no sympathies. Hyacinth wants to witness Ginny pregnant, if only so she could laugh at her too.

"Mippy helps," she admits with a guilty look. "But she can't be everywhere. I tried to wave over my brushes the other day, because I needed a different thickness. I was lucky I was sitting down!"

"I've done this before," Ginny reassures them. "Some of my cousins got pregnant and I was there for Fleur when it was her turn too."

It is the only thing that made Hyacinth breathe easier that day.

.

* * *

.

Reborn knows that his lover is keeping something from him, and that isn't unusual. He doesn't usually mind. He knows a life as difficult as hers must have been, she would have been used to keeping secrets.

That does not mean that he _likes_ it.

He does not pry, but he watches. He had always watched his lover but after watching her talk to her friends - who are apparently staying until the end of her pregnancy, it's ringing a lot of bells – her worried face is keeping him preoccupied.

But a Hyacinth cornered will get defensive. And that's the last thing he wants her to be.

So he will watch, wait and be patient.

He was always particularly good at setting up ambushes, this is nothing different.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth's first mistake of the day is waving her wand for the coffee instead of just asking someone to get it, or maybe standing up and walking the three steps for the mug.

Luckily, Ginny sees her wave her wand and did the actual spell for her. Luckily, Hermione dashes to her side the minute Ginny kicks her foot and caught her from a swoon.

Unluckily, Reborn is also at breakfast and his shoulders are stiff.

His knuckles are white on the table and she could see the faint tremors travelling up his hands.

"Hyacinth," he says softly. It is a demand. A plea. Because Reborn has his pride and will never beg.

And abruptly, Hyacinth feels overwhelming remorse. She had made Reborn _shake with fear_.

"I-I can't use magic," she admits to him, voice small.

Her friends are pillars of stone behind her, Ginny's magic a wild, crackling thing that warned Reborn, if he could have felt it, that she would hurt him if he made Hyacinth cry.

"It's all going to the baby," she continues, gaining some traction when he didn't react. "This always happens, so witches are prepared, but they sometimes forget and that's why…that's why…they ask friends to come. When it does happen."

.

* * *

.

Reborn wants to hurt something.

The shimmering, boiling pitch of worry that had started up since he researched what could go wrong in a pregnancy wanted to boil over.

He understood her magic, in a scientific way. It essentially just operated on instinct and from what he observed; her instincts were to protect the baby.

So all the illnesses he had read about, everything from an umbilical cord going in the wrong direction, to a wrongly positioned fetus, did not apply to pregnant witches.

But witches were nothing more than ordinary women without their magic.

And _that's what worried him._

He wants to hurt something, anything.

But from the tense, almost wary looks her friends were sending him, if he said anything wrong, they wouldn't hesitate to use lethal force.

It is easy to forget that Hyacinth had survived a war. Now though, that thought is present from the very atmosphere of the room.

He had to be careful.

.

* * *

.

When the silence stretches on longer than usual, Hyacinth chances to look up. (A quiet, contemplative Reborn is really something you didn't want in your general vicinity.)

What she sees makes her heart clench.

His face is hidden by his fedora and his head is bowed.

"I worry, sometimes," he says and it is muffled. "I worry that you would do something for my own good and not just tell me."

The fedora is removed and Hyacinth's initial suspicions are confirmed. There is a fine flush of anger going up Reborn's cheeks.

"I worry that you will hide something painful, because it is for my own good," he continues. "I am a grown man, my love. Do not take my choices from me. Ask me if I want to know. Do not decide what will be too much for me."

She takes a hitching breath and tries not to tear up.

She is ashamed. So ashamed.

How could she have forgotten?

_For the Greater Good._

A damned phrase, and a cursed ideal. It neglected the little people and ignored other people's decisions.

For the first time in her life, Hyacinth willingly bows her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I – I had thought…I had forgotten. I will do better. Reborn."

She stretches her hand to him.

A beat of hesitation, and he takes it.

And Hyacinth knows she is forgiven.


	74. Flames

Reborn solves the problem by taking away Hyacinth's wand.

It's not a perfect solution, since wandless magic still exists, but the idea clearly never occurred the witches and it is likely taboo, given the aghast faces they sport when he voices it out loud.

"That's - !" Hermione starts, looking appalled. "That's terrible, taking away a witch's wand."

Ginny, the redhead, looks more disgusted than anything. "It's like telling them you don't trust them not to hurt themselves."

It starts to make sense then, because wrapping someone's arms are the first step for mental patients. No one likes to be incapable. It's also telling that Hyacinth doesn't say a word. She is sitting willingly in his lap, but is pale and quiet.

From a woman that had hexed someone who had manhandled her, this is extremely worrying.

"Hyacinth, my love?" he prods. "This is not punishment, nor are you incompetent."

She raises her head and looks him in the eye.

"I'll try, for the baby," she says in a small voice.

And Reborn's heart hurts.

.

* * *

.

Hyacinth knows it's for the baby, and that's why she surrenders her wand to Hermione for safe-keeping with barely a flinch.

She goes through a day without magic, had gone through _days_ without magic with the Dursleys, which is why she knows how to deal with the sudden lack of wand.

Reborn is there, which makes it better, but there are still moments when she reaches up her pony tail where she usually stuck her wand in before remembering. Or when she searches herself for a lost wand before realizing that yes, her wand is not on her person.

She doesn't feel any different, which is what Ginny had warned her to look out for, but she does feel strange.

Being the Girl-Who-Lived, who had lived through a year being hunted as Undesirable Number One, being defenseless makes her antsy.

It itches at the sensitive spot between her shoulder blades and it sleeping is doubly difficult.

She knows Reborn is dangerous and could probably take down anyone wanting to hurt her with extreme prejudice while groggy and sleep-deprived. She also knows her friends are more than capable of taking down anything if they put their minds to it.

But irrational fears of a pregnant mother are difficult to stifle and more than once she curses pregnancy hormones.

.

* * *

.

And finally, it happens.

Gardening while she could still bend down a little, she does not notice the Hippogriff landing behind her. But when she finally did, the fright startles her enough to light herself on fire, the soothing orange flames holding flecks of green and yellow.

She doesn't scream, but she does stifle it into a muffled shriek.

Behind her, there is the muted thump of feet and Reborn's arms are around her.

The fire dies down and she starts to cry.

.

* * *

.

Reborn tries not to hyperventilate, but it's a difficult to thing.

Luckily, Hyacinth can't see his face as he panics. Her friends, however, could. And they look as alarmed as anything.

"The baby," she whispers frantically, tugging on Hermione's hand in a way that just breaks Reborn's heart. "Check on him. Is he alright? _Oh Merlin's beard, what have I done_?"

Reborn gathers the tattered remains of his composure and turns her around gently.

"Let me do it," he says. "And if I have any inkling, you likely did yourself more harm than the baby."

His Sun Flames, not exactly predisposed to healing but it had its uses. Like figuring out injuries. He had to be careful not to use too much or he would start causing tumors.

"His heart beat is steady," he reports. "He doesn't seem to be in any distress, but my love, you're going to overheat soon, manifesting your flames this late."

He picks her up and hears her friends swallow noises of protest behind him before following quickly.

"Flames? Was this when you made me explode that white sapphire?" she asks. Her eyelids are drooping, the sudden adrenaline wearing her out.

"That one, yes. You are, as always, a very versatile Sky," he announces, the pride in his voice very obvious.

Hermione's eyes on his back are piercing and he just knows she won't let it go. Damn Omerta and Damn their Statute of Secrecy.

.

* * *

.

"I can't tell you," he says to Hermione and Ginny without pre-amble. "I literally can't. Unless you want to be part of the Mafia?"

In his head, Reborn curses Lightning's. That damned Flame type and their tendency to sink their claws into something and never let go of it. Comparing her to a cat helps, but only temporarily. Ginny is a Storm and he knows if anyone is would do something rash, it would be her.

"Your world has obliviations," he continues without prodding. "My world is watched by immortal prison guards that monitor everything we say or do. It's eternal imprisonment if you involve a civilian without proper procedure."

Ginny's look is scalding. "We aren't civilians!" she hisses with immediate offense.

"Of course you're not," he agrees. "But does anybody else know outside of your world?"

Before things could escalate further – because it looks like Ginny wants to go for his throat – Hermione steps in.

"We're involved anyway," she interrupts smoothly. "We're involved whether you like it or not. From the moment you decided to be part of Hyacinth's life, you're involved with our world and us with yours. Your child might be magical and it might have these…flames as well. So we're involved. And you can't stop us."

Reborn feels immense respect for the woman, especially since she meets his eyes unflinchingly and without hesitation.

.

* * *

.

"I need a stronger drink for this," Reborn sighs, but he sits down on the kitchen counter without any more protests.

Hermione thrums with triumph and tries not to show it. Ginny bumps elbows with her and smirks unabashedly.

"There are seven flames of the Sky," Reborn starts. "And Hyacinth has three of them. Well, she started with one and developed two others. It is also immensely dangerous for her to have manifested this old. Outside of Hyacinth, the oldest I know who manifested is a sixteen year old."

"And why did it manifest now?" Hermione asks.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and Hermione smothers a thrill of satisfaction shooting through her. She had never really gotten over how annoyingly confident he is. Giving him a headache is a small consolation.

"Because she didn't have her wand," he answers in a musing voice. "The lack of weapons, or means to protect herself, along with the sudden appearance of a dangerous creature. It must have triggered the need for flames."

Ginny had told Hermione of the difficulties of pregnant witches and none of those witches had ever burst into flame.

Then again, none of those witches had been the Girl-Who-Lived either.

"Will she do this often?" Ginny asks the most important question of all.

None of them liked seeing Hyacinth cry after the shock of it.

To their dismay, he smirks. "Not so often afterwards, no. But when she figures it out, and I know she will, the clever minx…" he trails off with a low chuckle.

He doesn't need to continue, Hermione already has a headache.


	75. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!
> 
> Here, have some Bloodthirsty!Reborn and Explosion-Happy Hyacinth.

“You are not setting yourself on fire,” Hermione says.

It’s the most disturbing sentence she has ever had to say. Taken out of context that is.

But looking at the smile on her best friends face, it is completely justified.

“I’m not setting myself on fire,” Hyacinth argues, tone so reasonable that it just makes things worse. “I’m willing myself to be on fire. There’s a difference.”

Hermione has the feeling that if she groans, Hyacinth would win. Not sure exactly _what,_ but she would win _something_. Probably that competition she has with Ginny to drive her completely bonkers.

“Talk to me,” she almost begs. “Give me something to work with here.”

Hyacinth _sighs_ , like she’s the one being difficult here. Hermione would hex her, if it weren’t unethical to curse pregnant women.

“Reborn told me that it’s a defense mechanism that’s triggered by my need for anything to work with when my magic is busy with something else,” Hyacinth explains. “It doesn’t hurt the baby. At most, it would strain me if I use it too long. He already did a test on me; I have three different kinds of Soul Fire.”

Hermione shelves that information about ‘testing’, too infuriated with Reborn too focus on anything else.

“He just told you this? When?” she asks.Demands, really. Because if Hyacinth and one crazy idea left alone is a smoldering fire, adding information is like pouring in gasoline. If you add in pregnancy hormones and Hyacinth’s thought process – which is firmly on the path of “But Why Not?” - this can only end in disaster.

Hyacinth’s eyes wander over to the table laden with _candles_. Hermione snaps a hand in front of her face. “Before he left this morning,” she says.

Hermione wants to bang her head on the table. Ginny had left her alone this morning, citing the need for some female alone time, which had been completely fine to Hermione. She understood the need to have some time to just _breathe_.

Babysitting a pregnant Hyacinth hadn’t exactly been difficult. _So far._

You only had to really guess what she wanted before she could point her wand at it – before Reborn confiscated it anyway.

She should have known to be so relaxed.

Hyacinth is a difficult person to keep up with, if only because she gets so easily _bored_.

Hence, experimenting with _Soul Fire_ , abilities heretofore thought of as belonging only to purebloods.

Hermione mentally girds herself to stop her best friend from _experimenting with Soul Fire while pregnant._

Dammnit, Reborn!

.

* * *

 

.

Reborn hadn’t exactly wanted to leave Hyacinth, but the situation with the Vongola’s and the North is on the verge of boiling over, and Tsunayoshi had needed all hands on deck.

Not that his student had exactly asked, but when a Sky looked at you with need, only very few people could refuse.

And besides, he had been promised a fight. He needs to let loose, because weeks of taming his fangs from his lover and being so _civilized_ makes him antsy.

“You’re here,” one of the CEDEF stammers, looking shocked.

Reborn peers past the throng of minions and winks at his student. Tsuna and Dino abruptly turn very white. It’s very gratifying to still be so terrifying.

“Chaos,” he greets the war council. “I was promised some fun?”

Tsuna recovers quickly, which makes him the favorite student of the week. “Right, I did. You can have the Santobello. Chrome has everything.”

Chrome turns up at his side promptly, holding a flash drive. He loves her attention to how much he hates paperwork and pats her on the head.

“Good work,” he says with a smile, knowing that it creeped out everyone in the room. “I’ll call if I need anything.”

She nods and vanishes, reappearing somewhere else, judging by the stifled yelp behind him.

“Lambo is in the armory if you need anything else,” Tsuna calls out.

Reborn doesn’t answer, mind already thinking of a thousand different ways to make a bloody statement. Flooding the basement with blood always appealed to him.

.

* * *

 

.

Ginny returns with blissful sanity and Hermione collapses on the living room sofa, completely _done_ with everything.

The redhead smirks. “What have you done to Hermione?” she asks. “I haven’t seen her this worn out since N.E.W.T.S.”

Hyacinth pouts. “I didn’t do anything to her, she’s being completely unreasonable. Since when do I need a babysitter?” she murmurs.

Ginny exchanges an incredulous glance with Hermione. Both of them remember Hyacinth’s torture of ParvatiPatil and Lavander Brown, making what had previously been confident young women into nervous, paranoid wrecks.

Ginny had only ever heard the stories of what they did to offend Hyacinth, but Hermione’s looks had apparently been insulted, as well as her intellect.

Lavander had been quick to apologize, but not so Parvati. And then there was the sobbing, nervous breakdown in the Great Hall until she apologized.

Like it or not, Hyacinth needed somebody to stop her from going overboard. She had sadistic tendencies, no matter how hard she denied them.

“Haya,” Ginny says in a matter-of-fact tone. “You need a babysitter. Or do we need to talk about what you did to Professor Umbridge?”

Hyacinth sighs, conceding the point.

“I’m so bored,” she whines. “Do you want to explode something with me?”

Experimenting with unknown magic is not on the approved list of Things Hyacinth Could Do Unsupervised. _Controlled explosions_ on the other hand…

As one, Ginny and Hyacinth look at Hermione. “I’ve got some unstable Rune Clusters that George gave me,” Ginny wheedles.

Hermione removes a hand from her face, a hint of excitement in her eyes. “The one with the triple-linking core that has a ten mile radius when overloaded right?”

They’re all secretly pyromaniacs, really.

.

* * *

 

.

Being five months pregnant, Hyacinth is _strongly advised_ not to get too close to explosions. That’s why the three women and one boy are communicating via patronus as they set up the parchments in the middle of the desert.

(In hindsight, Madam Pomfrey knew her really well, including that warning with their weekly check-ups. The face Reborn had made had been a sight though, and made her laugh so hard.)

There is a dome of magic cutting all surveillance in the area and Hyacinth is pretty sure there is going to be a _crater_ when they are done, just like the Riddle House in Little Hangleton.

“But how do I override Thurisaz and Sowilo, it’s pretty conjuncted with Hagalaz?” Ginny’s patronus asks, the horse tossing its head back.

Hyacinth and Hermione confer over that, because Thurisaz and Sowilo were pretty much the power rune when tied together with Hagalaz.

(Thurisaz meant danger, Sowilo meant victory. Adding that with Hagalaz, which meant destruction… George Weasley had balls of steel.)

There are three ways to break a Rune Cluster with a triple-linking core. Overloading it, breaking it, or removing one Rune and running like hell.

The first would cause a ten-mile wide explosion. The second would be a _slightly_ smaller explosion. The last would have no timer at all and cause the one closest to it to have only three seconds before implosion.

Needless to say, they have to break it.

“We can try Raidho,” Hermione says, “but I’m pretty sure that would cause it to overload.”

Hyacinth wrinkles her nose, and then she looks to Teddy, holding all the parchment that carried their notes.

“Teddy, what does Blaise say about Naudhiz?” she asks.

Teddy shuffles the papers and reads his notes, taken discreetly under the table when he thought Blaise wasn’t looking.

“Naudhiz, meaning: Need, Unfulfilled desire. Thus, Naudhiz creates an emptiness where there wasn’t one before. Naudhiz is conjuncted often with Isaz and Laguz,” he recites.

Hyacinth’s eyebrows go up. “Hermione, isn’t Isaz the one about reversing positivity?”

With a smile, Hermione casts her patronus and relays the runes to Ginny.

Then, both of them braced themselves for the explosion.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth giggles as she stumbles into the house.

She might not have managed to set herself on fire, but she had set _something_ on fire and that was amazing.

Teddy clutches onto her shirt, dust, soot and sand covering him as well as it covered her.

“That’s why Runes are amazing,” she tells him. “If you ever find yourself imprisoned somewhere with no wand, write a small Cluster set, charge it and then unbalance it.”

“Boom,” Teddy tells her seriously.

“Boom,” she agrees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s not the fire that Hermione disagrees with, it’s that she’s really not sure about Soul Fire. Explosions, on the other hand are something all three of them have experience on, so yes, explosions.
> 
> Reviews pls.
> 
> ~hallen


	76. Fear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Beheadings, Traitors and BAMF!Hyacinth

 

For the first time in a couple of months, Hyacinth sleeps through the night.

It's surprising, since the whole day, she'd squirmed, a strange dichotomy existing beneath her skin consisting of wild energy and the dislike to move.

Her stomach had finally distended. For the first few months, it had been an unnoticeable bump but the sixth month had happened and she'd swelled up almost alarmingly. She could barely see her feet!

So she had closed her eyes irritably, knowing that sleep would be elusive but trying anyway.

And then magic rides up her spine, waking her and her temper in an instant.

Without prompting, the Sword of Gryffindor comes to her hand and her eyes blaze orange. Reborn may have been away on business and she may not have her wand but she is far from defenseless.

"Mistress," Mippy says as solemnly as her squeaky voice can allow. "Twelve of them."

The odds are not good.

"Who else is in the house?" she asks, putting on shoes.

Mippy wrings her hands but her voice does not tremble. "Mistress Loony and Ginny."

"Wake them up, quickly."

Hyacinth does not bother with her hair, or the large shirt she wore to bed. She thinks of the strongest protective shield around her stomach, hoping that her fickle magic would _understand_ without wands, and peers out of the window.

"Figures," she mutters under her breath as she tries to spot them. "The first night in months that I get to sleep _well_ without nightmares, then _this_ happens."

Anyone who tries to enter her house – her territory – would hardly have good intentions. The first man she sees will die. She will make sure of that.

"Haya," Ginny says, just as disheveled as Luna behind her. "Twelve of them? And you don't have a wand!"

Hyacinth tightens her grip on the sword. "I don't need a wand to kill. Twelve of them and three of us, that will be four for each of us then."

Luna's smile is placid, but Hyacinth doesn't let it fool her. She had seen Luna fight.

(In the dead of the night, some couple of days after Reborn had met Luna, he had whispered to her that he'd never seen a person with such strong **Cloud Flames** _and_ **Mist Flames**. The combination apparently _unnerved_ him so much that he had to drink a shot of vodka to relieve his feelings.)

"The house wards will protect Teddy," she says, quiet but not whispering. "Mippy will help me. And the Invisibility Cloak."

The three of them nod.

It makes her a bit sad that slipping away, _hunting_ down prey, is so natural to the three of them. Luna had just turned twenty.

Her gleaming orange eyes is the first thing that the men see when she comes on them, and the shining blade of Gryffindor is the last thing they see, swinging into an elegant arc as it chops off their heads.

.

* * *

 

.

Hyacinth leaves cleaning up to Mippy and goes to clean up.

She doesn't realize she's shaking until she sees her hands trembling on the water.

"Haya," Luna says softly, compassionate eyes staring up at her.

"Shit, Luna," she starts, turning and wiping her hands quickly, the blood draining down until it was just a memory. The scent lingered, but she knows it would be gone in the morning. "Are you hurt? I should have checked, are you alright?"

Luna steps into her personal space with no regard for how Harry tensed or how quickly her eyes gleam orange again.

No, Luna disregards that and engulfs her in a hug.

It's exactly what she needs.

Hyacinth. Just. Breaks.

.

* * *

 

.

She had thought she had left killing behind.

But she realizes that in order to protect her child, her baby, she would have to, because the alternative is too dreadful and terrible to put into words.

Reborn had enemies. And people would go after her, because she is a Sky. That's not even counting the number of Magical enemies she had.

But.

In order for them to attack her, someone had to have tattled.

Because the only people who knows where she lives can be counted on one hand, and they are all people she trust with her life.

And that only left the alternative.

.

* * *

 

.

Reborn comes home, expecting a bored but happy Hyacinth.

He did not expect the scent of blood, or the scent of freshly turned earth by the forest.

"Chaos," he greets, eyes taking in everything.

For the first time since meeting his lover's friends, he sees them look at him with relief, so much of it that he is immediately wary.

"Yes?" he adds at their looks of sudden good cheer.

"You're home, thank Morgana," Ginny says. "Go cuddle with Haya. She needs you."

That something happened to Hyacinth had him moving quickly, fast and not noticing that he had not bothered to take off his shoes, or that he is wearing a hat inside the house.

He finds her in the studio, paint splattering her arms, a bubblehead charm over her head and a look of deep frustration on her face. He checks the paint to gauge her mood and pales. There are a lot of soothing greens and blues. None of the usual red that she said she liked to try out when she was tired.

Red. Blood. Had something harmed the baby?

"Haya, _Tesoro_ , you're alright," Reborn sighs.

But.

Hyacinth _jumps_ at the sound of his voice.

Hyacinth, who had put in wards that were so invasive that some of her friends didn't like to visit, and who knows everything that passes inside it, is startled.

By Primo, what had happened?

.

* * *

 

.

"Reborn!" she cries, running to his embrace and inhaling the scent of coffee and expensive cologne. No gunpowder, he must have changed before coming home. "You're home."

He doesn't answer, just picking her up and snuggling close.

It takes effort that she does not appreciate to un-knot her spine, but she manages it. Because this is the father of her child and her lover.

"You're as jumpy as a rabbit," he murmurs into the shell of her ear. He rubs her back soothingly. "What has happened?"

There is a look in his eyes that tells her that he is angry. Not at her, never her, but at whatever made her afraid in her own home.

Hyacinth sighs and tells him, because he will never rest until he knows.

.

* * *

 

.

They cuddle in bed and Hyacinth starts smiling within the first ten minutes and laughing in the next twenty.

And she closes her eyes and knows she's safe and protected.

Reborn's eyes remain open and burning with murder.

Because the truth had struck the both of them at the same time, though Hyacinth had been kind enough not to say it to him.

Someone had tattled indeed. Vongola had a traitor.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .
> 
> Ugh. My tenses are all over the place, I'll check it out later.
> 
> Reviews and feedback are appreciated!
> 
> And maybe help on my tenses.


	77. Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: A bit of hunting, technical shit, BAMF!Skull

 

Reborn is hunting.

He would admit that he is a bit rusty, the skills of information gathering something he did before he became a hitman, but it's like riding a bike. You never forget it.

It takes a certain level of skill to scare the informant enough to tell the truth, and he might not be the master at it, but he learned  _that_  from Viper, and Viper is still the best in the field.

He lounges on a barstool, eyes hidden by a fedora and body language languid. He doesn't give away anything except invitation.

His target takes the bait easily.

" _Buonasera, signora_ ," he drawls with a smile that's just a tad too vicious to be charming.

She doesn't notice.

.

* * *

 

.

Skull is a very good Cloud, which people don't expect or understand.

They don't understand the need deep in his bones, his very soul. His need to be unshackled.

Most Clouds chose a territory, but for Skull, the whole world is his territory and he is as unchained as one could be.

Part of that skill required a need to be very good in feeling the politics of places and when it would go sour – when it would be time to go out of the country.

He is touring in Austria, detouring to Italy just to say hello to Tsuna, when he feels it. A shiver racing up his body and settling on the back of his neck.

Trouble.

A very specific trouble, because he knows this feeling. He had felt it, decades ago when Reborn learned of Luce's betrayal.

Reborn is  _angry_. So angry.

Skull takes a breath and deviates his motorcycle from the Iron Fort. He heads towards the Varia Stronghold instead, because if someone knows why, it would surely be Viper.

.

* * *

 

.

It shouldn't surprise Reborn to find Fon, Viper  _and Skull_  waiting for him in the Varia Stronghold, but it does, if only because the three of them did not get along on good days, never mind bad days.

He doesn't make it so obvious that he had just gutted a woman the night before, nor does he show his desperate need to shower.

He had not kissed another woman since he fell in love with Hyacinth and the taste of another woman's kisses makes him feel unclean.

"Now this is a strange sight," he says. "I only just wanted to confirm with Viper something I extracted from someone, and here I find the three of you."

Skull doesn't twitch, but he is so preternaturally still that it would attract attention in a different crowd.

"Information will cost you," Viper says as expected.

Reborn nods, mouth in a firm line.

Viper pauses, not expecting the easy acquiescence. Usually, there are more gunshots and threats. "What do you need to know?" they ask, wary now.

He thinks back to his unborn child and his lover, the scorch-marks surrounding the house and the freshly turned earth.

"Mafalda Rossi spoke of a man who frequents the Phoenix, a white suit and tattoo of a rose on his bicep," he says. "Assuming she spoke the truth, this man is leaking secrets of the Vongola."

Viper goes still, as does Fon. Skull has not moved in the past five minutes. They are all fond of Tsunayoshi for breaking the Arcobaleno Curse and thus they love the Vongola as well.

"I know that man, but if that is so, then this is a Varia issue," Viper says, voice cold. "We are all fond of Tsunayoshi, Reborn."

Involuntarily, Reborn's hands curl into fists. "This is personal," he says, doing nothing to disguise the growl coming into his voice. "He made it personal, leaking a pregnant Sky's location."

"A pregnant Sky, but that's..." Fon says, then he goes quiet.

The other two go quiet, realizing what that meant as well.

"Yes, that is personal," Fon continues, no tact and a lot of understatement. The steel in his voice as well as the hint of red in his eyes spoke of real anger.

"You're hunting," Skull says, the first words he speaks since Reborn's entrance. "You're not doing this alone."

Reborn's temper simmers. "Don't presume to tell me what to do. What do you need anyway, an engraved invitation?"

Skull's eyes flash purple, the first sign of his usually mild temper. "Get over yourself, Reborn."

Fon steps between the both of them, a shimmer of red surrounding him. "Let's not make this a competition. Think of Hyacinth."

The two of them back down.

"If the three of you are done," Viper sighs. "I have a location."

.

* * *

 

.

Viper looks at driving like they could warp space and time if they press the gas hard enough. Fon looks at stop lights like a challenge. And Reborn...Never mind Reborn's driving.

Skull drives because it's just safer than the alternative of everyone else.

"What do you have?" Fon asks Viper.

Viper materializes a folder out of nowhere. "Frederico de Luca, unremarkable Mist user, inducted during the time of Vongola Nonno. Subordinates were promoted, passing him in the chain of command. Demoted several times due to insubordination. Has several sexual harassment complaints."

It makes sense, since Tsuna has asked Basil to put in those anti-sexual harassment rules when he rose into office.

 _Why_  he decided to sell-out Hyacinth is another matter entirely, because there's ambitious, angry or spiteful, and then there's plain suicidal.

The four of them mourn the man's sense of self-preservation.

"Maybe he thought she's just a random Sky?" Skull offers.

"They probably think they're good friends," Fon says, amusement lining his face. "Reborn, you have not placed a ring on her finger and almost all Mafiosi I know are Catholic."

There is a twitch in Reborn's jaw. "She is not my mistress," he snarls under his breath. "I  _am_  marrying her."

The mafia are mostly Christians, the Triads are mostly Buddhists and so on. It's as geographical thing.

Except Hyacinth is a witch, who equated religion with the old gods.

And that's part of the problem, because people might be scared of Reborn, but assumptions are something he could not control. People assuming things are what puts them in these troublesome situations.

"By her laws, we're already married," Reborn grumbles. The seething, riotous anger is still there, but its fires simmer down in the face of a pack to hunt with. "She got blessed by a unicorn. That only happens when magic approves."

For the first time, Reborn is graced with the rare sight of three Arcobaleno speechless.

.

* * *

 

.

"You could announce these things?" Skull says tentatively, but Viper cuts him off.

"No, the only thing these people respect are power," they say. "Hyacinth might be good, but she's unknown. She has no reputation outside of a select few. It might have kept her safe when she was settling down in Italia near Vongola, but right now, it's working against her."

Fon's lips purse. "It's despicable. Pregnant Sky's are precious. Do these people know no manners?" he mutters.

There are unspoken laws. Blood Rights, the protection of the Innocent and the laws of Vengeance. Even the Vindice respected those laws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bloodthirsty Skull is somehow my aesthetic for this chapter.
> 
> I mean, scary Reborn is canon. Bamf Fon is already canon. But bloodthirsty Skull is tickling me so much.
> 
> Warnings for Blood and Gore in the next chapter.
> 
> Reviews pls!

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also available at [tumblr](http://ladyhallen.tumblr.com) for any worldbuilding questions and prompts.


End file.
